


Pixie Dust Never Lies (Canon Verses)

by Verkaiking



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Outlaw Queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-09 09:51:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 74
Words: 103,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verkaiking/pseuds/Verkaiking
Summary: A collection of Outlaw Queen one-shots and prompts.





	1. Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> My first published one-shot from way back in the day. Adding that and all my other works to AO3 in the next few weeks. Some of these are very rough, as my writing was back then, so I apologize in advance if the quality is not the best.

The smell of something sweet filtered into her room as the morning sunlight shone through her window. Eyes still closed, Regina stretched on the bed, her arm reaching to her left, only to find that the spot next to her was empty. She furrowed her brow and then opened her eyes, looking around the room for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Robin?" she called out tentatively. No answer.

Slowly, she sat up, rubbing her eyes before she lifted the covers and got out of bed, pulling on her robe as she headed downstairs and into the kitchen. There, she found Roland adding blueberries to a bowl of pancake batter while Henry flipped a perfect, golden pancake out of a pan and into the rapidly growing pile that sat on a plate near the toaster.

"Morning, mom! Happy birthday!" he said when he saw her standing by the kitchen door, dropping the spatula he was holding and running to her.

"What's all this?" she asked after being bulldozed by the two boys, who hugged her and sang a quick and very off-key rendition of the birthday song to her.

"We wanted to make you birthday breakfast!" Roland said excitedly.

"It was Robin's idea," Henry said, grinning at his mother as he watched her pick a blueberry from the plate Roland had left on the counter and pop it in her mouth.

"Was it?" she asked suspiciously, "where is he, then?"

"I may have thrown him out of the kitchen," Henry said innocently.

"Henry! why did you do that?" she asked, her voice stern.

"He burned the pancakes!" Roland's laughing voice intervened, and Regina widened her eyes at him before she shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips.

"I'm sorry, but he's useless in the kitchen," Henry said.

"It's true! He burned his hand, too!" Roland supplied with a chuckle.

"What? What happened?" Regina was worried for a second, but Henry smirked, trying very hard to contain his laughter.

"Just a minor burn. For what it's worth, I did tell him not to pick the pancake off the pan with his bare hand, but he was too stubborn," he managed to say through barely concealed amusement. Regina couldn't help but grin, shaking her head again as she grabbed the spatula Henry had left on the counter and went to flip the pancake that was in the pan, but her son stopped her before she could get too close, taking the spatula from her and shooing her out of the kitchen.

"No, no helping. It's your birthday, we're spoiling you," he said as he gently shoved her out the door, Roland giggling as he watched them.

Regina smiled to herself as she walked to the living room, looking out the window at the crisp, cold morning that greeted her.

She sensed him before she heard him come in, and then she closed her eyes and sighed as she felt his arms wrap around her from behind, his lips planting a tiny kiss on her neck before he moved to rest his chin on her shoulder, taking a deep breath with his nose buried in her hair.

"Happy birthday, m'lady," he whispered, his arms squeezing her just a little tighter as he spoke.

"Thank you," she said as she turned in his arms and looked up at him, instantly getting lost in his eyes before he closed them and bent down to kiss the tip of her nose. His hands left her waist to grab her by the elbows, moving her with him as he walked backwards towards the nearby coffee table, and that's when she noticed the huge bouquet of long-stem white roses that sat there, making her gasp.

"Are those for me?" she asked him in a whisper.

"Of course, your majesty," he replied, winking at her as he bowed. Moving closer to Regina, he cupped her cheek with his hand, loving the way she leaned into his touch and closed her eyes, as if reveling in the feel of him. He leaned closer, his lips barely an inch from hers.

"Breakfast is ready, guys!" interrupted Henry's voice from the kitchen, startling them both, and Robin grinned sheepishly at her.

"I was supposed to be in charge of that," he said, and she stared at him.

"The boys said you burned your hand, does it hurt?" she asked, genuinely worried as he lifted his hand and showed her the angry red scar on his wrist, right by his lion tattoo.

"Not to worry, it's my pride that's hurt, more than anything else. It looks worse than it is, really," he said, not really paying it any mind, but Regina didn't let go of his hand even as he tried to bring it back down to her waist. Instead, she took it in both of hers and planted a kiss on the scar, making him smile tenderly at her.

"Mom! Robin! What's taking you so long?" came Henry's voice again.

"Yeah, we're staaaarving!" Roland called out, and Robin laughed quietly as he touched his forehead to hers.

"Let's go, you know how they get when they're 'staaaarving'," she said, imitating Roland's exaggerated pronunciation of the word with a roll of her eyes. Robin laughed as she started walking back towards the kitchen.

"Wait!" he said, making her stop in her tracks as he hurried to her and crashed his lips to hers, his fingers threading in her hair.

"Happy birthday," he said when he pulled away, planting another short kiss on her lips when she beamed at him. He took her hand as they both headed back into the kitchen to enjoy their breakfast.


	2. Not So Evil After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. During the Missing Year, Regina and the others run into some trouble in the Enchanted Forest. Regina protects Roland, but things go wrong, and just when everything seems lost, someone else comes to the rescue.

They were coming. She could hear them in the distance, their rumbling grunts and foul stench carrying over to where she was. She had wanted to use her magic, but magic didn't really affect ogres, and so they had fled, trying to find a place to hide. She looked around, making sure the others were on their guard as they ran through the forest as quietly as possible. They were all struggling, trying to conceal the sound of their footsteps as they went. Ogres were blind, but their hearing was so acute that it guided them to their prey.

She finally stopped and hid behind a tree to catch her breath when she was sure the creatures wouldn't be nearby. Suddenly, a scream was heard, and she gasped when she turned and saw who it was coming from. Little Roland was a few feet away, running through the clearing where their camp was, an ogre chasing after him as he frantically called out for his father.

Regina didn't even think, she just moved, away from the safety of her hiding place and into the clearing, snatching Roland from the ogre's path just in time and crouching with him behind a tree stump. She put her hand on Roland's mouth to stop him from yelling.

"Roland, I need you to be very quiet, okay?" she asked him, and the panicked look in his eyes told her he probably couldn't even register what she was saying, but the boy nodded, tears streaming down his face as he did. She dropped her hand and they waited, hugging the boy and running her hand up and down his back, muttering reassurances in his ear to try and get him to calm down. When the ogre had turned its head away from them, Regina lifted Roland into her arms again and ran.

The lower branches snapped against her as she passed and left some small cuts on her face, but she didn't care, she kept Roland's head tucked safely in the crook of her neck and continued running until finally, she emerged in a meadow. She'd heard from Snow that it was safer to be in open spaces when ogres were around, as it would be easier to stay quiet if there was nothing to bump into. She could no longer hear the creatures, so she set Roland down and knelt in front of him, checking him for any cuts or bruises.

"Roland, why were you so far away from the tents? Where's your father?" she asked him. The little boy held out his fist and opened it in front of her, revealing a few red berries that had been crushed by his little hand as he had held on to them so tightly in his panic.

"He was looking for firewood, I wanted to get you a present," he explained, his lip quivering as he dumped the crushed berries in her gloved hand, and Regina smiled tearfully at him.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a growl, and she froze. The ogre was back, and it had found them.

There was no time to run or hide, as the creature was right in front of them, so Regina merely put one hand on Roland's mouth again, her other hand lifting a finger to her own lips to remind him that he had to stay quiet, but the ogre continued on its path straight towards them, and all hopes of an escape left her as she remembered something: her face was covered in tiny cuts, and ogres could smell blood. She should have healed her small wounds with magic as soon as she had the chance, but in her hurry to save Roland, she hadn't stopped to consider that, and it was too late to do anything about it now.

"Roland, listen to me, you have to run, run as far as you can into the trees, find a clearing and stay there. I'll come get you when this is over. Just remember to be quiet and they won't find you," she said desperately, but it was no use. The ogre was there, its hand stretching out to grab her as Roland screamed in terror, alerting the creature to his presence and making it stop moving for a second before its clouded eyes settled on the boy, moving towards him this time.

"No!" Regina gasped and created a fire around the beast. Knowing it would only detain it for a few seconds, she waved her hand and made Roland disappear in a small cloud of purple smoke, reappearing a little further into the meadow, where she used her magic to create a protective bubble around him that would conceal him from the creature.

"You'll be okay, Roland, it's going to be alright," she told him as she turned around and stood, blocking the ogre's path.

"Enough of this," she said as the beast made it out of the fire and started moving towards her again, "you want me? Come and get me," she spat at it, magical fireball already in her hand, but one flick of the ogre's hand knocked her to the floor on her stomach. She saw a shadow jump past her, and then her world went black.

* * *

 

"I don't know what to tell you, one minute she was with us and the next she was running in the opposite direction, she didn't even stop to think about what might happen, she just went for it," a voice said.

"I can't believe she did that," another replied.

"She really has changed," the first voice said, and Regina realized it belonged to Snow. She also realized they were talking about her.

"It's amazing," David said, and then Regina felt something cool being pressed to her forehead, making her scrunch up her nose at the strange sensation.

"Oh, look! She's waking up," Snow said excitedly, and before Regina could even open her eyes fully, a bunch of brown curls invaded her.

"Roland," she whispered as she sat up and hugged him. He was covered in dirt and leaves and had a couple scratches on him, but seemed otherwise okay, and she let out a breath, putting her hands on each side of his face and looking into his eyes.

"Does anything hurt?" she asked him, just to make sure, and she smiled when he shook his head at her.

"I'm so glad you're alright," she finally uttered, sighing in relief.

"Thanks to you," said a deep voice from behind them, and Regina turned around to find Robin watching them, his leg perched on top of a tree trunk, his elbow resting on his bent knee.

"I owe you more than I can say, milady," he said as he stood and walked over to them, stretching his hand towards her. For once, she didn't fight him, taking his offered hand and standing up slowly. They were still in the meadow, and the ogre that had been chasing them lay dead a few feet away.

"What happened?" she asked no one in particular.

"Robin found you, he put two arrows in the thing's eye before it could get to you," David said, putting an arm around his wife. Regina turned to Robin.

"You did that for me?" she whispered, stunned.

"You saved my boy. Again. It was the least I could do," he replied.

"Yes well, I have a soft spot for children," she said off-handedly, quoting the words he'd said to her the last time she'd saved Roland.

"Thank you," he said with fervor, and that's when she noticed he had yet to let go of her hand.

"Mind if I get my hand back?" she asked sarcastically, and Robin let go almost immediately, mumbling an apology.

"Roland, why don't you come with us? We'll get you cleaned up," Snow intervened, throwing Regina a mischievous smile and taking the boy's hand as she and David walked away towards a stream that ran nearby, leaving Robin and Regina alone in the meadow.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"I'm the queen, I'm always alright," she replied with authority, but Robin wasn't buying it.

"You hit your head pretty hard when the creature knocked you out, I was afraid you wouldn't wake up."

"It takes more than a smelly beast to bring down the Evil Queen," she said with flair.

"You almost died to save my son, forgive me if I have a hard time believing you to be deserving of that _evil_ moniker. _Bold_ and _audacious_ perhaps, but never _evil_ ," the outlaw said, and Regina felt the corners of her mouth twitch even as she turned away to stop him from seeing her smile. She began to walk in the direction of the stream Snow and David had headed off to with Roland, but the instant she began to move, her head began to swim and she collapsed again, feeling Robin's arms catch her before she hit the floor.

"Easy," he said, "you took quite a hit. Dramatic exits will have to wait until you're better," he was smirking at her, and it infuriated her, but she felt too dizzy to argue, letting him put her down against the cool grass.

"Here, let me help," he said, taking the wet rag Snow had been pressing to Regina's forehead and dabbing it with the contents of a vial he took out of his satchel.

"What is that?" she asked, suspicious of his actions.

"Just mint oil, it'll soothe the sting from your cuts," he replied, gently touching the rag to her temple and then the corner of her mouth, his face so close to hers she could feel the warmth radiating off him. Her eyes roamed his form, from the silky strands of his hair and his kind eyes to the gentle touch of his hands on her skin and the part of his chest that was exposed by the low collar of his shirt.

"See something you like, Your Majesty?" he asked smugly when he caught her looking, sending a cheeky grin her way. Regina felt the blush forming in her cheeks but fought it off, her eyes looking him up and down with disdain as he leaned ever so close to her.

"Don't flatter yourself, thief," she spat, and he shrugged as he pulled back from her, smirk still in place as he dropped the rag and walked away with a cockiness that should have bothered her, yet Regina could do nothing but smile to herself as she watched him go.


	3. Heart of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Robin chooses Regina.

 

Raindrops fall heavily against her as she hurries through the trees, trying to get back to the main road before darkness takes over the forest completely. She's lost track of time. Again. It's the third time she's done that this week, though it is the first time the rain catches up with her.

The storm is picking up, pounding against her as she walks, and flashes of light and thunder break through the clouds. The rain has clouded her vision, and she can no longer tell where she is or where she should go. She's lost and scared, and there's no one with her, there never has been.

Silent tears mix with the raindrops that fall on her face, and she lets out a frustrated scream as she finally collapses against a tree trunk, head buried in her knees as she cries and cries and cries. It's all she's been doing since she started coming here anyway. Ever since that night, her feet have carried her here, to the forest, where she first admitted her vulnerability to him, where she first realized he was different, where she handed him her heart.

"Regina!" she thinks she hears a voice call out, but it's probably just the wind.

"Regina!" it seems clearer this time, but again she remains silent, knowing there is no way anyone could possibly be searching for her.

"Regina, where are you?!" she doesn't want to answer, she just wants to stay here, letting the rain wash away her tears, her eyes empty as she stares at the darkness that has now bathed her surroundings.

She doesn't hear him approach, his hurried footsteps muffled by the sound of the pouring rain. She doesn't even feel his touch when he kneels down in front of her and cups her face in his hand, and though her eyes register his form, they never focus on him, still fixated on the droplets of water that pound against the forest floor. She doesn't even flinch when he puts his arms around her and lifts her up, carrying her to the safety of the main road and into her car, where he climbs in after her and holds her close to his chest, his lips murmuring nonsensical things against the top of her head.

"Are you insane?! What were you even doing out there by yourself?!" he exclaims as he pulls away, but she's too far gone to even register his voice, too caught up in the way her heart continues to break inside of her. He holds her chin and turns her face towards his, finally getting her to focus her eyes on his own.

"Regina! Say something, please!" he's desperate for a reaction from her, and she finally allows herself to take in her surroundings, the way his eyes frantically roam her face forcing her to put on the act she's been trying to pull for days now.

"I'm fine," she says.

"No, you're not," his voice is broken, knowing he is the one who caused her such pain.

"Why do you even care? Go back to your wife, Robin, I don't need you," she replies and gets out of the car, walking away in the middle of the storm. It astounds her how easy it is for her to lie to him like this, but then Robin sees right through her. He always did.

"Then I suppose we have a problem, your majesty, because I _do_ need _you_!" he says angrily when he goes after her. His words break through her façade momentarily.

"What?" she asks as she turns around, her voice betraying her, faltering as she asks the question.

"You heard me. I'm not losing you, Regina, no matter how hard you try to push me away."

"Don't you dare make this about me," she seethes as she walks back towards him, her words resounding as thunder rumbles all around them, "your _wife_ came back, Robin. The one _I killed_ all those years ago. I never had a chance, you never would've picked me," she says, her voice strong and clear before it breaks as she quietly mutters a bitter "why would you?" and looks down at her hands to avoid showing him the sadness in her eyes.

Robin's arms grab her by the shoulders, tethering her to him and hoping it will make his next words sink into her soul.

"Because I love _you_ , Regina," he says fiercely, his eyes frantic, the tip of his nose almost brushing hers because of how close they are. The rain has soaked them by now, but neither of them cares.

Regina lifts her head to look at him, and he smiles tenderly at her bewildered expression, as if she can't possibly have heard him correctly, so he says it again.

"You reckless, wonderful, impossible woman. I love you, and I want to dedicate my life to making you happy," his fervent words wash over her and tears begin to fall, his hand cupping her cheek as he looks into her eyes, not allowing her to turn away from him as he smiles at her.

"How? I killed your wife," she whispers brokenly, the sound of her voice almost drowned by the rain.

"Technically, you didn't. She's here, isn't she?"

"You said you would've walked through hell to be with her again."

"Yes, and I meant it. But I also meant it when I told you that I let her go. Yes, she's back now, and yes, the situation is complicated and will take great efforts to fix it. I don't want to hurt Marian, she's the mother of my child, but that's all she is now. You, Regina, you are everything to me."

"But why—" she begins to ask, but Robin puts a finger to her lips, grinning down at her.

"Just shut up and kiss me, your majesty," he says, and she breaks, crashing her mouth to his in an instant and finally letting herself _feel_ his love _._ The second her lips touch his, nothing else matters. He's here and he loves her, everything else becomes irrelevant.

They make it to her car and his lips are desperate against hers, the tip of his tongue seeking passage to explore her mouth even as his arms wind around her and hold her tightly, hands roaming her back and threading into her hair while the rain keeps pouring against the closed windows, concealing their gasps and moans from the outside world. Regina has no idea when or how it happens, but at one point his shirt is off, and her nails are digging into his back as he kisses her collarbone, her neck, her cheek, her lips, his tongue leaving a hot trail on her skin even as he murmurs "I love you," over and over again, trying desperately to show her how much he means it.

"Stunning in every way," he whispers when he finally gets her clothes off and looks down at her naked form, and Regina can feel the tears forming in her eyes again, but he kisses them away, his body moving in time with hers as he claims her, and there is no sound more delicious to him than that of her moaning his name as he moves and touches her everywhere, his hands never stopping their exploration of her beautiful body, reverently running down her sides, to her stomach and back up to her breasts. He feels the heat from her skin, the softness of her touch, and everything is right in his world again. He had missed her so much.

Afterwards, they lie together on the backseat of Regina's car, her lithe frame cuddled up on top of his body, his jacket draped loosely over her. Her hands are on his bare chest, fingers roaming in random patterns as she kisses every inch of his skin that she can find, and he hums contentedly, one of his hands playing with her hair while the other traces her face.

"I must admit, I never imagined our first time together to be like this," Robin says, breaking the silence.

"Like what?"

"Bumpy, closed quarters and a storm rumbling above us," he explains with a chuckle.

"You had some big plan I didn't know about?" she asks in amusement, and he bites his lip before deciding to just go for it and telling her the truth.

"I had always pictured it would happen in a bed, for starters. I wanted it to be after a very romantic night of dinner and wine, with candles and rose petals maybe," he says, and she gives him a tender smile.

"This is better," she says after a while, and it makes him laugh as she kisses him.

Because she's right, this is so much better.


	4. Let Loose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Season 3. Regina has a few too many tequila shots.

"I knew I'd find you here," a voice says from behind her, and she scowls.

"I don't want to talk to you… or anyone for that matter," Regina replies, but Tinkerbell is persistent and instead of leaving, she sits next to her on the tree trunk, her face sympathetic.

"You really do love him, don't you?" she asks her.

"Of course I do, he's my _son,_ " Regina replies, and her voice breaks a little at the end. Henry has no memory of her, and despite all the pain and misery she's suffered over the years, nothing has ever hurt as much as seeing him stare blankly at her and introduce himself, as if Regina was just some acquaintance of Emma's instead of the woman who raised him, who loved him since the moment he came into her life, who gave up everything she knew to make him happy.

"You know if I had a way to make him remember, I would, right?" Tinkerbell ventures.

"Why would you even care about helping me, even if you could? I ruined your life," Regina fires back.

"Yes, but you didn't really mean to, you were just scared, and I understand that now, after seeing how much you've gone through. As for wanting to help you, well, I guess it's what friends do."

"Oh, so we're friends now?" Regina asks bitterly, finally turning to look at her.

"I'm afraid so. Such a terrible fate, but what can you do?" Tinkerbell shrugs, grinning a little at her, and Regina feels the corners of her mouth twitch a bit, but refuses to smile back.

"Well, _friend,_ I just want to be alone, so go away," she murmurs, her tone isn't unkind, but it is final.

"Actually, I have a better idea," Tinkerbell replies mischievously.

"What are you talking about?"

"You need to let loose, Regina, you need to just enjoy yourself for a while. You can transport us with your magic, let's go somewhere!"

"Where?"

"I don't know, a fancy party, an exotic landmark, anywhere you want, let's just leave Storybrooke for a bit, this realm is so large! We might as well explore it."

"I don't want to go anywhere," Regina says.

"It doesn't do you any good to just sit here in the middle of the woods and cry, Regina. Come on, let's just go somewhere and have a drink," Tinkerbell says, and the excitement in her voice makes the whole thing begin to sound tempting to the queen, who raises an eyebrow at her.

"Anywhere?" she asks.

"Anywhere," the fairy answers with a wink, knowing she has her.

"Fine," Regina huffs, "but just one drink," she says.

"Of course," is Tinkerbell's amused reply.

In an instant, purple smoke surrounds them, and before she knows it, Tinkerbell finds herself standing next to Regina on pavement that wasn't there before, staring up at the entrance to some establishment from which music is blaring.

"Where are we?" she asks.

"Boston," Regina replies.

"That doesn't seem very exciting," Tinkerbell asks with a frown.

"You said anywhere."

"Fine, alright, let's go have a drink," the fairy replies, not wanting to make Regina take them back to Storybrooke just yet.

They walk inside and directly to the bar, where they take a seat in the stools and wait for the bartender to show up. He's handsome, with dark hair that falls above hazel eyes and a strong jaw lined with a bit of scruff. He's wearing a tight black T-shirt that showcases his well-defined arms, a short black apron tied around his waist over his jeans. When he sees them, he throws a lazy grin their way and stares at them appraisingly.

"Never seen you gorgeous creatures here before, what can I get you?" he asks, his voice a seductive baritone.

"Apple martini for me, and for her—" Regina begins, but Tinkerbell shuts her off, leaning forward on the bar and giving the man a cheeky smirk.

"Two shots of tequila, please," she says, and he nods at her, grin still in place as he goes to fetch her order. Regina turns to look at her.

"Tequila? Really?" she asks.

"Emma introduced me to it, I'm afraid I've become quite fond of it," Tinkerbell says, smiling at the queen. Regina scowls a little at the mention of Emma, but turns back to the bartender, who has just shown up in front of her, holding three shot glasses in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other.

"Here we go, ladies, hope you don't mind me joining you," he says as he pours the shots, then brings a small salt shaker and places it in front of them, along with three lime wedges. Regina goes to take the salt shaker from him, but instead, he moves it away from her reach and shakes some salt into his hand, right in the L-shaped area between his thumb and index finger, and then offers his hand to her.

"Go on, beautiful," he says to her, and Regina flinches away in indignation.

"What makes you think I'm going to lick your hand? That is highly unsanitary," she says in disgust, and Tinkerbell laughs.

"Oh come on! Lighten up!" she says. The handsome bartender merely smiles, his eyes never leaving Regina's as he licks the salt from his hand before he downs the shot and lets Tinkerbell place a lime wedge in his mouth.

"Maybe the next one, then," he says when he discards the lime, and walks away to tend to other customers.

"I think he likes you," Tinkerbell says knowingly, smirking at her. Regina huffs and drinks her tequila straight up, the salt and lime left intact on the counter in front of her.

"What are you doing?" the fairy asks when she sees Regina pulling out some money from her wallet.

"We agreed on one drink, we've had our one drink, now we go back," the queen says, but Tinkerbell stops her.

"Let's have another."

"No."

"The idea of this was for you to relax, you're not relaxed. Come on, one more," Tink insists, and before Regina can protest, the bartender has refilled her shot glass.

"Listen to your friend, you look like you could use some time off from… whatever it is that's plaguing you," he says, and she notices that his tone has softened, no longer intending to seduce, just a friendly observation. Regina exhales and grabs the shot glass, looking at Tinkerbell with wary eyes.

"I am so going to regret this," she says before downing the second shot.

* * *

 

Nine shots later, Regina is laughing, letting the bartender -whose name she now knows to be Ryan- pour some salt on her hand.

"Are you sure? Isn't it 'highly unsanitary' for you to do this?" he asks with a knowing smirk, and she glares at him playfully, offering him her hand.

"Do it," she says, her eyes dancing. Ryan smiles, and then licks the salt from her hand, wiggling his eyebrows at her when she giggles at the sensation of his tongue on her skin before drinking the shot of tequila she just bought him. Tinkerbell is giggling as she watches them.

Two more shots after that, and Ryan is holding her by the waist from behind as they dance during his break from manning the bar. Tinkerbell is on her stool, watching and swaying to the music with a lazy smile on her face, happy to see the great and terrible Evil Queen allow herself to just be a carefree woman for a change. Regina feels exhilarated, never having been with a man like this. The dancing was sensual, slow and intense even as the music thumped and picked up speed. There was no hurry in his movements, and his hands grasped her tightly against him, her back against his chest and his cheek resting next to hers, his breath ghosting the side of her face. She revels in the physical connection, something easy and safe and _fun_ , her head leaning back on his shoulder as she breathes him in. His scent is not at all unpleasant, but it's not what she's looking for. Though what exactly it is that she's looking for, she has no idea.

After one last shot, Regina announces it's time to leave, and a sleepy Tinkerbell doesn't really have it in her to argue, grinning at Ryan and thanking him for a lovely time. He smiles in return and catches Regina's hand after she shrugs her coat on.

"Will I see you again?" he asks, and Tinkerbell giggles and hiccups as she leans into Regina's side, Ryan merely grins at her.

"I'm afraid not," she says with a smile, "but we had a very nice time," she finishes. That easy smile of his never leaves his face even as he takes her hand in his and kisses it.

"I don't even know your name," he says.

"It's R—" Tinkerbell starts, but Regina quickly moves the arm she has around the fairy and clamps her hand on her mouth.

"It's better that way," she says to Ryan, removing her other hand from his grip while smiling at him, and he nods in understanding.

"Should I call you a cab?" he asks.

"Oh, that won't be necessary, we, uh… someone's picking us up in a few minutes," Regina lies, and he nods again, winking at her and blowing a kiss at Tink before he walks back inside the bar.

"He is so pretty," Tinkerbell says with a sigh, and Regina can't help but laugh at her.

"And you are so drunk," she replies.

"So are you!" Tink accuses when she sees Regina stumble as she walks, "this was really fun."

"It was," Regina admits, giggling at the fairy's attempts at walking in a straight line, though it doesn't escape her notice that she can't do it either.

* * *

 

Giggling and laughing like schoolgirls, they spin around in purple smoke when Regina's sure no one can see them, and in seconds, they're back in Storybrooke, right in the middle of Main Street, the clock tower looming above them.

"I thought we were going to the Rabbit Hole?" Tinkerbell asks in confusion.

"I guess I just… got lost," Regina says, and after a second of looking at each other, they burst out laughing, holding on to each other as they walk to the town bar, making quite a spectacle of themselves as they stumble in, demanding tequila in loud voices, much to the surprise of the people there. Killian, who is sipping some rum with another man at the counter, sees them and beckons them over.

"I see you ladies decided to have an adventure tonight," he quips.

"Oh, like you've never done it before," Tinkerbell says, waving him off. Killian smiles at the fairy, then takes her hand.

"I think you should go get some sleep," he says when he realizes she is giggling with her eyes closed.

"Noooooooo, tequila!" Tinkerbell replies, and Regina laughs from where she stands behind her, shouting "yes, tequila!" in agreement. Killian chuckles at them.

"You too should get some rest, your majesty, I sense this tequila won't be so kind to you in the morning," he says, and Regina nods solemnly, though a snort breaks through her and suddenly she's laughing again.

"You take her, I'll see to Regina," a voice says from behind them, and Regina realizes that Killian's companion was none other than Robin Hood.

"You'll 'see to me'? How darrrre you? I am your queeeeeen!" she slurs, though she can't contain her laughter. Robin can't help but smirk at her, finding her drunkenness utterly endearing.

"Come on, your majesty, don't want to give your subjects a show," he says, gesturing for her to walk ahead of him while Killian lifts an already asleep Tinkerbell into his arms.

"I'll take her to Swan's room at Granny's, she can spend the night there," the pirate tells Robin, who nods in agreement and then catches up to Regina, who is already stumbling out the door. He puts a hand on the small of her back to steady her as they walk to her house, hoping the fresh air will help her clear her head, but instead it seems to fuel her current state, making her skip around and hold on to a lamppost, walking in circles around it as she sings silly songs that don't make sense to him.

"We should really get you home," Robin interrupts her singing, offering his hand to her. She pouts, and it takes everything in him not to lean forward and catch that stuck-out bottom lip with his mouth.

"You're no fun, I want Tink back," she says in a way that would rival the pleas of any petulant child.

"Tinkerbell is asleep," he replies patiently.

"No she's not she's just resting her eyes, she told me so herself!" Regina insists, and Robin chuckles at her, his hands darting out to hold her waist when she trips over her own feet.

Slowly, they walk until they've rounded the corner of her street and reached her door, but Regina can't seem to even be able to get the key in the lock, so Robin does it for her and walks her up the stairs, leaving her in her bathroom to change while he goes down to fetch her some water.

When he returns to her room, it is to find her in her pajamas, half asleep on the bathroom floor with a lazy smile on her face as she leans back against the outer edge of her bathtub. Shaking his head in amusement, Robin sets the glass of water on her night table and then goes back to the bathroom, lifting her in his arms. Her head immediately falls against his chest, sighing in appreciation as she breathes him in. Ryan had smelled of smoke and cologne and hints of the tequila he'd drank with her, but Robin's scent was softer, less aggressive, more natural, like pine trees and rain and…

"You smell like forest," she says, giggling a little as she grabs his jacket tightly and burrows further into him, the woodsy smell of him soothing her. He chuckles at her observation as he sets her down on the bed, drawing the covers up to her waist before he helps her drink the water he procured for her.

When she's done, she turns on her stomach and lets her head drop back on the pillow, sighing contentedly as she closes her eyes, and her deep breathing alerts Robin to the fact that she's fallen asleep, her hand now grasping the hem of his jacket as he sits next to her on the bed. Quietly, he extricates himself from her, but the movement wakes her for a moment and she tightens her hold on his jacket, bringing him closer.

"No," she mumbles, "don't leave, I like the smell of forest," and Robin laughs quietly at her words.

"As you wish, milady," he murmurs back with a grin, moving to sit more comfortably on the bed next to her, running his fingers through her hair as he watches her drift off again, the happy hum his ministrations elicit from her sending a shudder through his entire body.

* * *

 

The next morning, Regina is awoken by sunlight. Retched, annoying sunlight that filters through her window and shines directly on her face, making her open her eyes and thus trigger the horrible headache tequila always causes her. She should've known better than to drink it, should've known better than to listen to _Tinkerbell_ of all people. Her head is pounding, and the chirping of the birds outside only serves to annoy her further. She stretches out on her bed, moving around until her hand catches something that shouldn't be there. In a flash, memories from the previous night come to her, and she flinches as she remembers her pathetic display at the Rabbit Hole. Her fingers grasp the dark green jacket and she groans, remembering how Robin had had to open her door, walk her to her room and even carry her and tuck her into her own bed because she was too drunk to do so herself. Had she really told him he smelled like _forest_?! How embarrassing. This was not supposed to happen, all she'd wanted to do was escape from her pain for a little while, and she had ended up behaving like an idiot in front of the townspeople, in front of _him._

As she brings the jacket closer to her, she finds a note poised on top of it. Squinting, she brings it closer to her face to read the elegant handwriting.

_Keep it._

Regina stares at the note, smiling despite herself. She doesn't feel the headache anymore, merely wrapping herself up in Robin's jacket and letting his scent lull her back to sleep.


	5. Let Loose, Part 2

"I believe this is yours?" a voice says from behind him, and Robin turns to find the queen standing by his tent, his green jacket in her hand. He's stunned for a second, as he always is when he sets eyes on her, and today, with her gray trousers and burgundy shirt, hair glinting in the late afternoon sunlight that filters through the trees, Robin is certain she has never looked lovelier.

"I thought I told you to keep it?" he asks as he nods to the jacket in her hand, amused at the off-handed tone she had used to speak. He can see the bags under her eyes, the pallor of her skin, and he knows she has not altogether recovered from the previous night, but his attraction for her does not dwindle.

"Please don't make this more mortifying than it already is," she replies, holding the jacket out to him again. Robin only shakes his head, smiling at her.

"It's perfectly alright. I quite enjoyed taking care of you," he tells her, and it's the intensity in his eyes as he speaks that makes her blush. Looking down, she walks closer to him and shoves the jacket in his hands, turning to leave before he can say anything else, but he quickly drapes the garment over his shoulder and goes after her, his hand grabbing hold of her arm.

"Please," he says, finally getting her to turn around to face him, "there's no need to be embarrassed, milady. I promise you, nothing you did has made me think any less of you," the hand that held her now drags down her arm to her wrist, his fingers tangling loosely with hers for a brief moment before he lets go and stares into her eyes with something akin to passion. Regina has no idea what's happening, cannot understand what he's playing at, and it scares her. It scares her because it feels good, it scares her because whatever it is that he's doing, she doesn't want him to stop.

"Don't lie for my benefit. I remember enough to know I acted like an idiot," she says, trying her hardest not to lean into him when he steps closer to her.

"I'm not lying," he tells her, and now he's so close that Regina can't seem to look away from the deep blue of his eyes, "in fact, I think you make a rather adorable drunk," he informs, a lazy smile on his face, as if he is remembering her bouts of idiocy with fondness rather than amusement.

"Excuse me?" she asks, indignant.

"Rambling about the smell of forest and tripping over your own feet, you even pouted at me when I told you it was time to sleep, it was quite endearing," he replies, and she can tell by the way he's looking at her that he means it.

"Besides," he continues, "I was pleased that you asked me to stay."

"Because it gave you front row seats to my 'adorable' displays of stupidity?" she fires back, though the mirth dancing in his eyes is contagious, and she can't help but smirk as she utters the question.

"Because I felt honored that even in your inebriated state, you would trust me enough to want me there with you," he says, his tone vehement, changing the light atmosphere in a split second, "I know how hard it is for you to trust people, Regina, so thank you for granting me that privilege."

To that, she has no reply, so she looks away instead, biting her bottom lip until she feels his thumb gently pulling it away from her teeth. His boldness should anger her, make her throw a fireball at him for even assuming he could touch her like that, but instead she blushes and looks down again, shivering as the sun begins to set and a cold breeze passes through. Robin instantly grabs the jacket from where it still hangs on his shoulder and drapes it around her, and the action makes her grin.

"Thank you," she says.

He walks her home after that, and the lingering goodbyes at her door make her giddy. He seems reluctant to leave, finding excuses to continue talking to her until a yawn escapes her.

"Forgive me, I'm keeping you from your rest," he says.

"Don't worry about it, it's just the hangover," she replies, because there's no use pretending with him at this point.

He waits until she's opened her door, laughing lightly at her.

"What?" she asks.

"It's nice to know you've got your basic motor skills back," he quips, remembering how she had not even been able to get the key in the lock the night before. She rolls her eyes at him.

"Ha, ha, very funny," she says sarcastically, but she's smiling back at him, and it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smirks back at her.

"Good night, milady," he says, taking her hand in his and placing a light kiss on it, and it doesn't escape Regina's notice that her heart flutters at the feeling of his lips brushing against her skin.

"Good night, Robin," she replies, and it's the first time she's called him by his name. It makes him raise an eyebrow at her. She shrugs in response, as if it's no big deal that she's no longer using a disdainful utterance of the word 'thief' to address him.

He watches her walk inside, and suddenly she remembers and turns back to him, removing his jacket from where it rests around her shoulders.

"Here you go," she says, offering the jacket to him once again, but he shakes his head.

"I told you, it's yours," he tells her, refusing to take it.

"I couldn't possibly—" she begins, but he cuts her off, wrapping his hands around hers where they grip the dark green fabric.

"Please, Regina, I insist."

She feels the traitorous blush reach her cheeks when his hands touch hers, and it baffles her how such a simple action has her lusting after this man, but it seems she can't help it.

"Thank you," she finally relents as she walks inside, taking one last look at him before she closes the door.

And if she drifts off to sleep with his jacket draped over her and a smile on her face for the next night or ten, no one would ever know.


	6. Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Drunk OQ get a little frisky.

There's an eerie silence at the bar when he enters, which is unusual for a place like The Rabbit Hole, where everyone always seems to be in good spirits as they down their drinks. Not tonight though, tonight, everyone is quiet, and when he looks at the only occupied stool on the counter, Robin realizes why. It's because _she_ is here.

It's strange to see the queen at the bar, as she seldom seeks to be out in public like this, least of all now when everyone thinks she cast the curse that brought them back here. Robin knows it wasn't her, he has no idea why he knows, but he does. Something in him tells him she didn't do it, and he has never had any reason to doubt his gut.

She's nursing some sort of cocktail, he notices, and frowns at the way she absentmindedly stirs the drink with her straw. No one bothers her, but everyone keeps glancing her way every few seconds, and he's certain she feels it, because her shoulders are hunched and her eyes are looking down, not making contact with anyone in the room. For some reason, he walks toward her, drawn as he always is by her presence. Her hair frames her face as she looks down at her drink, and he sits on the stool next to her, orders two shots of tequila, and silently slides one to her with his left hand.

She looks up, astonished when she finds him sitting there.

"Whatever that is," he says, pointing to her drink, "you look like you could use something stronger."

His voice is low, husky and sensual though he never meant it to come out that way, but it seems he can't help it when he's around her, there's just _something_ about this woman that drives him mad with lust. She takes the shot silently, tipping her head back as she drinks it before taking the lime wedge he offers her and biting into it, and he's mesmerized by the way her hair catches the dim light from the lamp above them. He itches to run his fingers through her dark tresses, but refrains from doing so, knowing it would only make her angrier than she already seemed to be.

"Want to talk about it?" he asks, and she shakes her head but speaks anyway.

"My son doesn't know who I am."

"I'm sorry," he says sincerely, "it must be truly awful," she gives a bitter laugh.

"I deluded myself into thinking I'd have him back. I knew he wouldn't recognize me, but I was a fool and hoped that he would anyway."

"It's only natural to hope for the best, your majesty," he counters, but she shakes her head again.

"I cast the spell," she says as she downs a second shot of tequila when he offers it, "I knew how it worked, I don't know why I even let myself think that I could be reunited with him."

"Because you love him, that's why," he says as he watches her bite into another lime wedge and dump it in the small plate the bartender has laid out for them, and she's so surprised at the simplicity and the truth of his statement that she finds herself tearing up without meaning to, moving her hand to her face quickly to wipe the traitorous drops away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he apologizes, but she waves it off.

"I'm a mess, it's not your fault," she says, and then she is startled when his hand makes contact, his fingers ghosting over hers as he focuses his eyes on her face.

"You will get your son back, milady," he assures her, and she smiles in thanks for his kindness, but doesn't quite believe him.

"That doesn't feel possible," she says as she looks back down to the empty shot glass, the third one she's had since he arrived. Robin's touch loses its hesitance, fingers grasping hers firmly and prompting her to look at him.

"You are the queen, surely you won't back down from this challenge?" he asks.

"The queen," she scoffs, "queen of a wasteland I was cast out of by a curse that took away a year of my memories and made me face my son, without him having any knowledge of me," she tells him. Robin then narrows his eyes at her curiously, his hand holding his chin, making him look deep in thought.

"I suppose, when you put it that way, alcohol is definitely a good distraction," he concedes, and after a few seconds, he motions for the bartender to pour them both another shot, making her laugh.

"You have such a wonderful laugh, it's a shame you don't show it often," he comments.

"I don't have many reasons to laugh these days," she says, but blushes at his compliment.

"Perhaps I could… help you find a few," he replies, smiling at her, but it's not the big, kind smile she's seen him give the others around town. No, this smile is subtle, but intense in its nature, meant for lustful appraisal, not comfort.

She doesn't know why she's engaging him, perhaps it's the alcohol, perhaps it's her need to feel something other than despair, but she finds herself enjoying his company.

"Are you trying to seduce me, thief?" she asks jokingly, though she's throwing a seductive smile of her own his way.

"I wouldn't dream of it, your majesty," he says, but he winks at her before his eyes roam her figure, leaning closer to her and setting his sight on her lips. She can feel his breath on her face, the smell of the tequila lingering in the air as she licks her lips and stares at him. Before she can act on her impulses, however, he raises his hand in front of her, showing her a lime wedge before he tilts his head towards the countertop. Refusing to lose –though she has no idea what it is they're playing-, she chugs back the newest shot she's been poured at the same time he does his, hissing at the bitter aftertaste of the tequila as it runs down her throat. Seconds later, Robin is leaning even closer, looking at her mouth as she bites into the lime wedge he holds up to her, feeling her lips brush against his fingers, and every single person in the bar is staring at them.

"Care to join me for a walk?" Robin asks, aware of their audience. She nods and allows him to lead her out of the bar after he's taken care of the bill.

As the cold air and silence of the outside envelops them, Regina feels something shift in him and suddenly, he's grabbing her hand, walking hurriedly to a nearby alley and holding her against the wall, a surprised whimper escaping her when _finally,_ he crashes his lips to hers in a hungry kiss. Their mouths explore each other, tongues tangling and pushing deliciously, and he moans when he feels her bite down on his bottom lip.

"Regina," he gasps. It's the first time he's said her name, and the reverence with which he utters it as his fingers skim under the hem of her shirt rocks her to the core. She grabs at him, fisting her hands in his jacket as she pulls him closer, feeling his body slam against hers, trapping her between him and the wall behind her. She doesn't mind. In fact, she welcomes it, her lips insistent against his as he grunts into her mouth. It is desperate and raw and sensual and many other things she can't quite name, and she burns with need for it.

The coarse hair on his jaw now tickles her neck as he dips his head down to kiss her shoulder, his hands touching her everywhere, and she's very aware that anyone could turn into the alley and see them, but she can't bring herself to care. A primal, deep sound reaches her ears when his hand closes over her breast above her shirt and with a start, she realizes the sound came from her, the feeling of his tongue on her neck and his hands on her breasts eliciting reactions from her body that she never thought possible.

Soon, the hurried kisses become languid and soft, the urgency lost as they continue learning each other, her arms around his waist while his hands are tangled in her hair, and the gentle way he pulls at it while he kisses her only serves to make her whimper into his mouth. He swallows her moans, her gasps, enjoying the taste of lime and tequila and something that is hers and hers alone. The movements of her tongue are intoxicating, the feeling of her lips dancing against his making him grind his hips into hers slowly, sensually. She is fire and rain and calm and storm all at once, and it thrills him like nothing else ever has.

When they stop long enough to open their eyes, he looks into the chocolate depths she reveals to him, his fingers never leaving her hair. It's so soft and beautiful, he can't keep his hands off it.

She sighs as she sags against him and begins to feel dizzy, whether from the alcohol or from what just happened, she can't be sure. Robin grins at her, planting a chaste kiss on her lips before he pulls away and offers her his arm, and they walk quietly back to her house, where he lingers by the door, not sure of what to do. Regina senses his nerves, and knows that he fears she'll regret this tomorrow when she's sober, and she aches to tell him that she won't, but no words come out of her mouth.

Instead, she kisses him softly, indulging in the feeling of his lips against hers again before taking hold of his hand and bringing him inside with her. To her surprise, he shakes his head when she attempts to lead him upstairs to the bedroom.

"I want to. Believe me, milady, I want to," he says, his eyes darkening as he pictures her, naked and willing underneath him, "but I mustn't."

"Why not?" she asks.

"It wouldn't be right, considering how much we've had to drink. I'd rather this happen when we're both of a clear mind," he says, and she accepts his reasoning, even if it angers her because she knows that once the effects of that dreadful tequila wear off, she won't have the guts to pursue this, but it's like he can read her thoughts and he reaches for her, bringing her closer.

"You are exquisite," he breathes in her ear, planting a kiss on her neck before pulling back to look at her, "I want to take my time with you. Drunken fumbling hardly seems like the proper way to worship a queen," he finishes, and she raises an eyebrow at him.

"Worship?" she asks, and he bites her bottom lip gently.

"Oh yes, your majesty, I fully intend to worship all of you," he says, and his words and his voice and the intensity in his eyes make her breath hitch as she leans her forehead against his. He smiles, loving that he can affect her as much as she affects him.

Slowly, he pulls back and takes her hand, planting a lingering kiss on it.

"Good night, your majesty," he says with a wink.

"Good night, thief," she replies.

The promise of another meeting passes between them, though it goes unspoken, and Regina allows herself to smile in anticipation as she watches him go. She's never been worshiped before, this should be interesting.


	7. Of Smiles and Mischief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something cute and fun based on the deleted scene in season 3B/Missing Year, where Snow finds a letter from Regina and realizes she's leaving.

Relief. Unhindered, body-crushing relief.

That's what Snow feels when she sees Regina waiting for them at the castle doors.

It had startled her, the amount of sorrow the queen's short letter had brought her, and it had only served to make her more certain that Regina was no longer the evil being that had hunted her down all those years ago. She was sad, she was lonely, and above all, she missed her child. Snow could relate to that wholeheartedly, but where she battled her sadness with hope, Regina didn't even attempt to fight hers. Instead, she let it take over, simply because she felt like she deserved to suffer.

The queen looks unfazed, the short train of her imposing black cloak pooling on the floor as she stands, statuesque and beautiful against the main door of their home. Snow walks faster, wanting to reach her and hug her and shake her and yell at her for even thinking of surrendering to her grief in such a way.

Regina spots her in the short distance, her eyes focusing on how Snow walks purposefully towards her and she knows. She knows they'll have to talk about it at some point, but she is not ready to do that, so she turns her back when she makes sure nothing is coming after the arriving party and walks back inside the castle to wait for them, hoping it'll at least give her some time to prepare for the conversation.

"Are you alright?" the thief's voice says from where he stands behind her, in the corner of the grand hall.

"It seems I have some explaining to do," Regina replies, tilting her head in the direction of the people now filing in through the doors. Robin's eyes settle on the princess and he smirks at the mix of anger and concern he sees on her face before he turns back to the queen.

Regina is looking down at the floor, not in the mood to discuss anything with anyone. He bends his knees a little so that his face is below her, well in her field of vision, catching her eyes with his and holding her gaze as he straightens again, bringing her head back up.

"I can talk to her for you, if you'd like," he suggests, and it takes everything in him not to reach out and run the backs of his fingers down her cheek. Ever since he'd stopped her from cursing herself, since he'd seen that vulnerable side of her, something in him had snapped, and now there was a physical pull, a need to protect her, to care for her, even if she did drive him mad sometimes.

"It's fine, I'll deal with it," she finally says, straightening her posture as she walks towards the new arrivals.

Snow remains standing by the entrance. It is Robin's sweet smile that has baffled her. That tender way in which he looks at Regina is the first thing that registers when she sees them talking in whispers to each other, and then she says something and he smiles at her knowingly, like he can't possibly be prouder of her. Understanding dawns on Snow and she hastily puts her hands behind her back, hiding Regina's note. The Prince of Thieves and The Evil Queen… who would've thought?

"Go ahead, do your worst," Regina's voice snaps her from her musings, and Snow merely gives the queen a content smile.

"I'm glad you're still here," is all she says when Regina raises an eyebrow at her, and the queen looks taken aback by the words for a second before she schools her features.

"Yes, well, I said I would help," she replies in a bored tone, and Snow nods silently before diverting her attention to her husband, who has just closed the heavy castle door behind the last members of their group. With a whispered "thank you" and a squeeze of Regina's hand, Snow walks away.

"Robin Hood? Really?" David asks her when she relays what she's seen.

"I know, I was surprised too!"

"Snow, don't you think you're overreacting? Maybe he was just concerned," her husband insists.

"David, I know what I saw."

"And what exactly was that? A smile doesn't really tell us much."

"On the contrary, it tells us everything," she said, and regaled him with one full of love, making him plant a chaste kiss on her lips in return.

"Okay, what do you suppose we do?" he asks with a grin of his own.

"I have no idea. She's too proud and he's too stubborn, it'll be very difficult," she says, and David looks pensive for a moment before he wraps her in his arms.

"Well then, I suppose it's time we get the outlaw and his queen some time alone, what do you say we make them patrol the castle for the night?" he says mischievously, and Snow nods enthusiastically.

"That is a great idea."

* * *

 

"That's it, I'm done!" Regina exclaims one day as she bursts through the doors of the council hall and leans her palms against the table in front of them.

"What's wrong?" Snow asks.

"I cannot work with that man!"

"Robin?"

"No, the tooth fairy. Yes, Robin!"

"Did something happen?" David asks her.

"He threw a dead rat at me!" Regina shrieks, and then they hear a scoff and turn around to see Robin standing by the doors.

"It was a squirrel, and I didn't throw it _at_ you, you just happened to be there when I disposed of it," he counters, "if you don't want to have dead animals landing on you then stay the hell out of my way when I'm cleaning out the traps!"

"That is no way to speak to me, you uncultured swine! I am your queen!" she screams, drawing herself up to her full height.

"Well then, stay the hell out of my way, _your majesty!_ "

"Alright, alright, enough!" David interrupts, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at them.

It goes on like that for months, but Snow and David remain strong in their plan, pairing their two unlikely victims together whenever there's a search, a patrol, even a council meeting. Sometimes they can hear Regina scream all throughout the castle, and Robin has now taken to provoking her whenever possible, but it doesn't escape Snow that every single time he manages to tick her off, he smirks fondly to himself as he watches her make a dramatic exit, and every time she gets on his nerves and he stalks off in a rage, the tightness in Regina's eyes seems to ease a little, replaced with amusement and a spark Snow never thought to see there again.


	8. Maybe It's Possible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. A bit of a look into their first kiss.

_You feel things deeply, you feel things with your whole soul._

_Sooner or later, your heart will find its way to happiness._

Snow's words kept popping up in Regina's head as she walked into the forest, heading in the direction of the glimmering light in the distance. She had no idea what she was doing here or how she was even going to approach the subject, but something had snapped in her after that emotionally draining encounter with the ghost of her mother, something that had pushed her on this very path towards the Merry Men's camp.

Cora had lived a life of scorn and resentment, which she had then passed on to Regina when her plans to gain power didn't take, making her daughter into the pawn she used to exact vengeance on her enemies and ruining her life in the process. Regina didn't begrudge her mother her actions, she simply couldn't bring herself to do it, but she was beginning to understand that her life had always been about Cora, what _she_ wanted, what _she_ wished for them, and it had led them to an endless downward spiral of anger and bitterness that had only ever made them that much more miserable. Well, no more. For the first time since her mother's death, Regina embraced the idea that she could finally do whatever made her happy, that while she mourned Cora's passing, the fact was that she was no longer around to manipulate her into pursuing a course she did not want to take.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Regina was free to _choose_ , and it scared her.

Snow White of all people, had been the one to soothe her. She'd made her understand that she could choose to be happy, she could choose to let go of the anger that had plagued her for so long, she could choose hope, she could choose love.

Regina had gone down that path once before and when Tinkerbell had shown her that happiness was possible, she'd run away in fear. She would not do that again.

The light from the fire flickered as she moved through the trees, and then she saw him, sitting on a log that lay on the floor, a stick in his hand as he stoked the fire. It was time, she had to tell him.

He heard her approach and instantly stood up to welcome her, apologies tumbling from his lips before she could even utter a word.

"I'm sorry, I let you down. Your heart was lost to Zelena on _my_ watch, but I promise you, I will get it back."

She had prepared a whole speech in her head, had planned to tell him the entire story, from Daniel to Cora to Tinkerbell and her pixie dust, every last detail, right down to the significance of his lion tattoo, but as she watched him, so flustered and ashamed, berating himself over surrendering the prized possession she'd left in his charge, Regina found that she couldn't speak, rendered speechless by his fervent vow to recover her heart.

 _Don't let anything hold you back,_ Snow's voice echoed in her head.

Before she could allow herself even a second to overthink her next actions and regret them before they even happened, Regina fisted her hands in Robin's chest, pulling him down by his jacket and crashing her lips to his.

Nothing, absolutely _nothing_ could have prepared her for the way it felt to kiss him. It was like fire and ice and wild and tender all at once, and she loved it. He was too shocked to fully respond, it seemed, but her mouth lingered against his, the force of the kiss making him stumble into her just a little. She kept her hands on his jacket, only letting go when their lips parted with a soft smack. She could see the storm in his eyes, the surprise, the uncertainty, and for a split second she considered running away, because she couldn't bear it if he rejected her after what had just happened. But then Robin let out a breath and brought her back against him, seeking her lips again and finally, _deliciously_ kissing her back. His left hand held her by the waist while his right threaded in her hair, playing with the dark tresses as he tilted his head and deepened the kiss, and the taste of him was intoxicating beyond anything she had ever imagined, making her gasp into his mouth.

They pulled apart, panting as they huddled closer to each other, and Regina couldn't help the giddy smile that lit up her face when he smirked at her and touched his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and sighing, his warm breath brushing against her cheek.

"Why, your majesty, that was a very bold move on your part," he teased, kissing the tip of her nose when her smile grew wider.

"You did say I was bold and audacious," she fired back, and her words amused him, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he brought his hand out of her hair and cupped her face.

"I _will_ get back your heart," he vowed again, his eyes boring into hers as his thumb caressed her cheek.

"I know you will," she replied, letting her head fall into his chest as he held her, his lips in her hair, and at last Regina could see what Snow had been talking about. Here, feeling warm and giddy and tingly in Robin's arms, Regina finally understood that maybe, just maybe, her happiness wasn't such an impossible thing after all.


	9. About That Scarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Season 3. Preamble and emotional aftermath when Marian shows up.

_He's just finished putting his trousers back on when she walks up to him, the top of her gray dress hanging loosely from her shoulders._

" _A little help?" she asks as she turns her back to him, moving her hair to the side so he can zip up the dress. He does so slowly, planting a lingering kiss on the back of her neck and humming as he breathes her in before he turns her around and brushes his lips against hers. She smiles into his kiss, biting his bottom lip gently before she pulls away, and he groans in frustration when her body is no longer flush against his bare chest._

" _None of that, we're late as it is," she chastises, throwing his shirt at him playfully, her face graced with a smile so bright it could rival the sun. He put that smile there, and it feels wonderful._

" _I've changed my mind," he says, sauntering towards her and putting his hands on her waist, "I don't want to go to Granny's."_

" _Why not?" she asks, truly concerned that something has changed._

" _Because I want to stay here," he answers, smiling lazily at her to soothe her worries, "with you," he leans down and drags his lips across her neck, "in bed," he murmurs against her skin, "where I can have my way with you over," he nips her earlobe, "and over," he kisses her jaw, "and over again," he finishes, reveling in the way her breathing stutters as he places a final kiss on the corner of her mouth._

_She shakes her head to clear it from the lust-induced haze his attentions have given her and puts her hands on his chest._

" _That does sound tempting," she tells him, letting her fingernails rake against his chest, whimpering when he pulls her tighter against him, his hands resting low on her hips now. She smiles seductively at him, leaning closer, her nose brushing against his. He closes his eyes, ready to kiss her…_

" _But we can't, we promised Roland we'd take him to the park and then out for ice cream before the party tonight," she says and backs away, laughing at his frustrated growl._

" _Using my own son against me, I see. You do not play fair, your majesty," he says with a pout, and she giggles, light and free and happy while she walks around the room, finding her leather jacket while he pulls on his shirt. When he turns, it is to find her shifting through the many scarves in her closet, and that gives him an idea._

" _Here," he says, standing behind her in front of her full-length mirror and draping his own scarf around the back of her neck, letting the sides fall over to the front on either side of her. Regina looks down at the garment and smiles, the color is rich and soft at the same time, matching the hue of the wine they'd drank by the fireplace earlier. She turns in his arms and looks up at him from under her eyelashes._

" _I'm wearing your things, now?" she asks him, her voice low and husky, and he gives her a devilish smirk as he nods._

" _Why not? I have another scarf in my coat, and this one looks better on you," he replies, bending down to place open mouthed kisses along the column of her neck._

" _Besides," he says against her skin, "I quite like the idea of you wearing something of mine."_

" _And why's that?" she asked suspiciously._

" _Regina, I'm trying to seduce you," he says, tugging on the scarf to bring her closer, "and I won't succeed if you keep interrupting me to ask all these questions. Now, kiss me," he says, and she laughs before indulging in the feeling of his lips on hers. It's sensual and slow, the passion building up with every brush of their lips and every pass of their tongues. When Robin starts feeling for the zipper at the top of her dress, however, Regina stops him._

" _Come on, there'll be plenty of time for this later," she says, raising herself up to bite his bottom lip again, but when she tries to pull away, he holds her in place, engulfing her lips with his again and loving the way she gasps when he presses his body against her._

" _There better be, you've left us good and flustered, milady," he says with a mischievous smile that makes her go weak at the knees, and for a moment she considers dragging him to the bed, their meeting with the Charmings be damned, but her conscience wins out and she stands her ground, moving away from him so they can finish getting dressed._

_When they leave her house, his scarf is wrapped around her neck, his hand holding hers, and they wear matching stupid smiles on their faces._

* * *

 

She feels it again. That soul-crushing pain of losing what you love, of coming to the realization that you will never be happy no matter what you do, and this time it hurts a million times more, because nothing had been harder for her to do than taking that leap of faith, than embracing the idea that her destiny was entwined with his. She knows she can't blame him, it's not his fault his wife came back, after all, but it doesn't stop her from looking at him with anger and frustration in her eyes as he tries to stop Marian's tirade while everyone in the diner comes outside to inspect the scene.

"You and the Evil Queen?! Are you insane?! What about Roland?! How could you allow him to be near her after everything she's done?! She'll ruin your life! It's what she does, she's a monster!" the woman shrieks, and Regina can do nothing but stare for a moment as Robin tries to appease her, explaining that there is nothing to fear, but Marian isn't listening.

"You imprisoned me, tortured me, and now you're trying to take my family away from me?! I won't let that happen!" she screams at her, and Regina finds her voice at last.

"I do not intend to take anything from you, and I apologize for all your suffering. I know it doesn't fix anything, but I am sorry."

"Your apologies mean nothing, you're evil and vindictive and I don't want you anywhere near me or my family!" Marian berates her again. Regina nods, turning to Roland, who is hiding behind Snow as he watches it all unfold, his face set in an expression that alerts Regina to the fact that he's scared and confused, it makes her heart ache.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she says as she bends down in front of him, her voice hoarse.

"Regina," Robin begins, but she puts a hand up to stop him from coming closer.

"I should go," she says and removes the scarf from her neck, handing it to him without another word. The gesture breaks Robin, and his heart sinks as he watches her go, unsure of how to act or what to do to make things right.

* * *

 

For days, Robin tries to embrace his second chance with his wife, taking her around the town, showing her the marvels of this new realm, but something is amiss.

One morning, as he goes through the motions of getting dressed for the day, something falls from his closet. Looking down, he inhales sharply when he realizes it's his burgundy scarf, the one he'd asked Regina to wear the day it all went awry. He remembers shoving it inside his closet that awful night, refusing to look at it for fear he would crumble under the weight of his conflicted emotions. Looking at it now, though, he can't help but remember the good parts of that day, when her kisses and her teasing and her laughter had made for many perfect moments that he wishes he could relive over and over again.

As he puts it on, he notices that her scent still lingers in the soft fabric, and he inhales deeply, missing her.

* * *

 

Robin wears the scarf every day now, sometimes without even meaning to. One afternoon, when they take Roland for ice cream, Marian notices that there's a sadness in his eyes that he can't seem to shake, and she knows it's because he has feelings for another, but she says nothing, refusing to admit out loud that her husband is in love with the Evil Queen and not her.

Out of respect for Marian and fearful of his own confused feelings, Robin doesn't go to Regina. Instead, he hides in the alley adjacent to Granny's and throws wistful glances her way every day when he sees her walk down the street with her son after lunch. It's the only time of day she's seen in public lately, and he knows it's his fault, he knows it's because she has closed herself off to everything and everyone again, because she's hurt and alone, and it kills him that he's done that to her, especially when his feelings for her continue to burn stronger than anything he's ever felt before. And as he lets his fingers play with the end of the scarf, he realizes that those tiny glimpses of Regina are a balm that soothes his soul from the pain of missing her, and he hangs on to them like a lifeline. Those moments, those painfully fleeting moments when she's near, they're all he lives for now, and it's not nearly enough.


	10. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Smutty fluff.

She's fallen asleep face down on the bed, naked and beautiful under the sheet that covers her up to her shoulders, her hands snuggled under her against her chest. Her head is turned to the side as she rests her cheek on her pillow, facing him. He would've succumbed to sleep himself, had his eyes not been glued to her, mesmerized by every slow rise and fall of her body as she breathes. It is amazing how much just watching her soothes him, how giddy it makes him to know that the content smile on her face as she sleeps is because of him.

As quietly as he can, he moves his arm from behind his head and shifts on the bed, moving the sheet down to her waist and letting his fingers caress her back, loving the goose bumps that rise on her skin at his touch.

"Stop that," she murmurs as her smile grows wider, alerting him to the fact that she is not as deep in her slumber as he thought.

He says nothing, rolling his body so that he's half on top of her, his bare chest pressing into her as he drops kisses all over her back, making her hum in pleasure. He smiles against her skin, turning her so that she's on her back beneath him, a lazy grin on her lips and her eyes sparkling as they open to look up at him. He's chosen her, he loves _her_ , he was a fool to ever think otherwise, and it kills him that he made her suffer for the two weeks it took him to realize that.

"I'm sorry," he says, and she knows he's not talking about interrupting her sleep. She sees the guilt tighten his eyes for a second and she shakes her head, raising her head up from the pillow and planting tender kisses along his jaw.

"It's okay," she tells him, smiling in reassurance.

He can't resist her, instantly bringing his lips to hers, gently sucking and nibbling at her bottom lip before tangling his tongue with hers languidly, sweetly. When his fingers move up her body and accidentally tickle her side, she squirms a little and lets out a giggle against his mouth, a lovely, melodious thing, and he can't help but pull away to smile back at her, leaning down again after a second to pepper quick kisses all over her face, making her laugh softly.

"I love hearing you laugh," he tells her between the kiss he presses to her forehead and the one he drops against the skin of her cheek.

"I love your skin," he says before another kiss is placed at the tip of her nose.

"I love the way you kiss," now his lips touch hers and stay there for a few seconds, his hand tangling in her hair.

"I love how stubborn and hotheaded you are," he teases as he kisses her other cheek.

"Hey!" she exclaims as she playfully smacks his shoulder, but they're grinning like idiots at each other, and everything is perfect because she knows he means every word.

"I love how much you love and care for your son… and for mine," he adds, pecking her lips again simply because he can.

"I love that you put others before yourself, that you continue to choose love and hope despite all you've suffered," he tells her, and the guilt is visible again for a split second before he continues, looking down at her as he plays with her hair.

"I love how confident and sensual you are," another kiss.

"I love that no one knows your body like I do," and now his hand drags slowly down the side of her face to her chest and then cups her breast, making her gasp.

"I love the sound you make when I do _this_ ," he continues as he drops his lips to her neck and sucks at her pulse point, his stubble rubbing against her jaw, and she whimpers at the feeling, "yes, that's the one," he smiles in satisfaction when he hears it, and then he dives into her neck again, because he really can't get enough of that sound, enough of _her_.

"I love _you_ , Regina," he finally says when he moves his head back up to look deep into her eyes. He sees the tears building there and instantly brings his lips back to hers.

When he slips into her, it's slow and tender, though the blue in his eyes darkens with the passion that burns so strongly for her, and Regina can't stop herself from gasping his name as his body brings hers to new heights. Because it isn't just the physical connection, it's _him_. It's the fact that he's picked _her_ , it's that he'd made love to her and admitted there was never a choice to begin with, that he is _hers_ and hers alone. It's the reverent way in which he'd held her as he told her over and over again how sorry he was for not seeing it sooner, it's that he had shown up here two hours ago, in the middle of the night, to tell her that he loved her, it's the fact that here, in his arms, she's finally _happy_.


	11. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon-variant: Set in season 3, but Emma never brought Marian back.  
> Prompt: Robin finds out Regina's never been on a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The outfit described for Regina in this chapter is the same one she wears in episode 3x17, the only thing that changes is the color of her scarf.

"… _And so, once he had slain the mighty dragon, the prince rescued the fair maiden, the same one that the wizard had told him lived in the dragon's lair as a prisoner. The prince then took her on his noble steed to his castle and together, they lived happily ever after_ ," Regina finishes, closing the book and placing it on the coffee table in front of her. The little boy scrunches up his nose and looks up at her from where he's cuddled against her on the couch.

"That doesn't sound right," he tells her, and she frowns.

"You don't like that they lived happily ever after?" she asks him.

"Well yeah, but… how do you know?" he asks, blowing off a curl that falls on his face as he speaks.

"How do I know that they live happily ever after?" she asks incredulously, and he nods, looking up at her with curious eyes before he speaks again.

"He only rescued her from the dragon, he doesn't know if she's nice. What if she's not nice? What if she's mean? You can't live happily ever after with someone who's mean," he says, and Regina has to chuckle at his cleverness.

"You are one special little boy, Roland," she tells him, "and you're right, in the real world, it's possible that they wouldn't like each other enough to live happily ever after, that's why this sort of thing only happens in stories and not in life."

"What happens in life?" he asks, curious again, and Regina is slightly baffled by the subject they've just ventured into, but smiles all the same as she replies.

"Well, when two people meet and feel that they like each other, they spend time together just the two of them, and they get to know one another. After a while, if things go well, they fall in love, and _then_ they live happily ever after," she knows it's not that simple, but he's five years old and that's the best answer she can give him for now.

"What do they do when they spend time together?" Roland asks, inquisitive child that he is.

"Well, they go out, have food, visit interesting places or take walks, just normal things you would do by yourself, but they do it together so they can talk and see if they like each other enough to fall in love. In this world, they call that a date," she says, and he nods in understanding before asking yet another question.

"Are dates nice, Regina?"

"I suppose they are, but I've never been on one so I wouldn't know for sure," she tells him with a smile, and Roland's eyes go wide at her revelation.

"You and papa," he gasps, "you like each other!"

"Yes, we do," Regina says with a tentative smile, not sure why he's so alarmed.

"But how will you know if you can fall in love if you don't have a date?!" he asks and then she understands, and hates herself for having given him such a ridiculous explanation.

It's true that she and Robin haven't been out on an actual date, but with their memories missing and Zelena lurking about, courting would have been impossible. Besides, even with everything that had been happening, they'd spent enough time together to know that what they have is real, and that's all Regina really needs. _And_ _he's your soulmate,_ Tinkerbell's voice echoes in her head.

"Roland, not everyone needs to date, your papa and I… we're different." Her words seem to ease Roland's worries, and when Robin stops by her house to pick him up, he's in good spirits again, babbling about his day with Regina as he picks up his things from around the living room. The moment his back is turned away from them, Robin presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, his lips lingering there as his hand wraps around her waist, his front pressing into her side.

"Thank you for taking him today," he tells her in a whisper when he pulls back.

"It's not a problem," she smiles, "I love spending time with him."

When Roland is all packed and ready to go, they linger by the door so that he can hug Regina goodbye, and then Robin takes her hand and kisses it, thanking her again. She watches them go with a happy grin on her face, and settles in for the night.

* * *

 

Ever since he learned how to work a phone, Robin's been using the one at Granny's to call Regina every morning, and today is no different, though this time his voice carries a teasing lilt to it as he speaks on the other end of the line.

"So, did something happen last night that you wish to tell me about?" he asks her.

"What do you mean?" she questions, concern coloring her tone.

"When we got back to the camp yesterday evening, my son decided to lecture me about my lack of romantic intent towards you," he says with a laugh.

"Oh?"

"He seems to be under the impression that I've been terrible at courting you," Robin continues, and Regina finally understands, her eyes going wide as she chokes a little on the tea she's been drinking and starts to cough into the phone, absolutely mortified.

"I'm so sorry, Robin," she manages in a raspy voice once the coughing has subsided, "please don't pay him any mind, I never said anything of the sort, he was asking questions about how people fall in love and I just, I told him what I could so that he would understand, I didn't mean for him to get so caught up in it, I'm—," she rambles, but his next words stop her.

"I think he's right, actually," he says, and she can almost hear the smile in his voice.

"He's not, I told him, not everyone needs to be courted, I didn't mean that you had to—"

"Regina?" he cuts her off.

"Yes?" she asks shakily.

"Would you grant me the pleasure of your company for dinner tonight?" he asks, all traces of teasing gone.

"Robin, you don't have to. I promise you, I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything, I was just trying to expla—"

"Regina?" he cuts her off again.

"Yes?"

"I would really like to take you out tonight and spend some time alone with you, if you'll have me," he says, and she can't help the blush that spreads on her cheeks at his words.

"You're asking me out on a date?" she asks in a low voice.

"Yes, I believe that's what Roland said those are called," he teases, and she tries very hard, but fails to conceal the laugh that bursts out of her, and Robin chuckles lightly on the other end.

"I love that sound," he tells her casually, like it's a normal occurrence for him to say that to her, and she's thankful that he can't see the idiotic smile that appears on her face at his words. It's ridiculous how much this man affects her.

They say their goodbyes, agreeing that Robin will pick her up at her house at seven that night, because he's done his research and knows that _It's the proper thing to do on a date_.

* * *

 

Regina spends the entire day overthinking everything, she even ends up telling Tinkerbell of her plans when she runs into her at Granny's, and the fairy squeals in delight and attempts to reassure her that she has nothing to worry about. It works, though only for a little while, and by the time she goes home to get ready, she's nervous again.

Robin had told her it wouldn't be a fancy thing, that she should dress comfortably since they would spend time outdoors tonight, but she still wants to make an effort and look just a little nicer than usual, so after her shower, she tries on at least six different outfits, and when her clock reads 6:37pm she ends up choosing the first one she'd thrown on: tight fitted black pants, a white button-up blouse, black boots and her black leather jacket, a deep red scarf tucked around her neck and into the jacket for effect. She's just finished fixing her hair and applying a bit of makeup when the doorbell rings, and Regina quickly ties up the sash around her jacket and nearly skips downstairs to open the door.

Robin stands on the other side, one hand behind his back as he stares. He is mesmerized by her for a few long seconds before his close-to-drooling mouth closes and arranges itself into the crooked grin he knows will make her blush… and there it is, that soft splash of color that floods her cheeks as she smiles at him is entrancing, and it makes him positively giddy to know that he has that effect on her.

"Stunning," he says simply, moving closer to her and grabbing her hand as he bows, planting a kiss on her knuckles before he brings forth the hand that was hidden behind his back. It holds a single red rose, and with a sparkle in her eyes and a silly grin on her face, she takes the flower from him, her fingers playing with one of the soft petals as she brings it to her nose and takes a deep breath, the sweet smell soothing her nerves.

"Thank you," she tells him, her smile never faltering as she turns around to place the rose in a small vase on the mantelpiece. He follows her without letting go of the hand he kissed, intertwining their fingers instead and tugging her to him so he can nuzzle his nose against her cheek. Pulling back a little, he looks into her eyes and smiles at her.

"Milady," he says, moving to her side so he can extend one arm out towards the door, the other resting low on her back as he gently ushers her outside.

They walk in comfortable silence until they reach the vicinity of the Merry Men's camp, and to her surprise he does not take her there, but a little ways away. As they continue trekking through the woods, Regina finally speaks.

"Where are you taking me?" she asks with polite curiosity.

"Well, it occurred to me that I've never had one of these 'dates' either, so I figured it would be best to have some privacy in case I make a fool of myself," he tells her, his eyes dancing with amusement. His mood is contagious, and she laughs lightly, never letting go of his hand as he leads her through the trees for a few more minutes until finally, he announces that they've reached their destination.

Regina had been too busy looking down at her feet to make sure she didn't trip, so when she looks up, all breath escapes her. There is a break in the thick canopy of the trees, giving them a full view of the sky, which is huge and black and teeming with bright, bright stars. On the ground, hundreds of fireflies dot the darkness all around them in the clearing, as if expanding the landscape that the moonless heavens are offering for the night, and a plush red blanket is spread in the middle of the open space, a basket sitting atop it, nestled in a pile of plush cushions. Two camping lanterns cast a warm, cozy glow over the setting.

"You did all this?" she asked in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the beautiful atmosphere.

"I told you I'd done my research," he teases, pulling her close and kissing her cheek, "Roland and Henry were there to assist, of course," he finishes when he pulls away, walking backwards to avoid losing sight of her as he approaches their picnic setting.

"Two little boys, that's where you got your lessons in romance?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at him, but she's smirking and walking towards him and he knows she's enjoying this. When she reaches him, he takes both her hands in his and looks her up and down, his eyes slow and deliberate, making her blush again, and he bites his lip before speaking.

"A common outlaw needs all the help he can get when attempting to court a queen, especially one as exquisite such as yourself," Robin tells her, smirking right back, and Regina laughs.

"So what that means is, they wore you down so you had to let them help," she says, breaking the seductive banter for a moment, and he nods, suddenly laughing too.

"I'll admit, they're a force to be reckoned with when they band together," he says as they sink to the floor, both sitting cross-legged on the blanket, leaning towards each other.

"Roland was very adamant about how this was all his idea, and so of course he _had_ to be part of it," Robin says, pouring the wine and passing her a glass.

"Of course," she agrees with a chuckle as she takes it, swirling the liquid around while she waits for him to finish pouring his.

"He's actually the one who picked the food for tonight," he tells her.

"And Henry?"

"Henry simply insisted that he wanted everything to be perfect because you deserved it," he says, his voice quiet, and Regina's eyes fill with moisture immediately. Her little prince is back, he remembers her, and he loves her. She still can't believe it.

"They're good kids," she says once she's sure her voice won't break when she speaks.

"To our boys," he replies, and they clink their glasses, sipping the wine quietly for a few seconds before Robin opens the basket and pulls out their dinner. In minutes, he's set up a spread of grilled cheese sandwiches, all with different kinds of cheese, some fancier than others, with bacon and tomato or spinach or red peppers, and they all smell delicious.

As they eat, they talk about anything and everything, sharing sad stories and happy stories and even discussing some of their darkest secrets when they slip through. He flinches when they discuss her life as the Evil Queen, but not because of what she may have done, but because he hates that he wasn't there to soothe her, to show her she could be loved and to stop her from succumbing to her own darkness, from going through life angry and alone.

When they finish their meal, he asks her about a tiny scar he sees on her temple and she explains that it's left over from when Greg and Tamara kidnapped her, and then she gasps when she realizes that this is the first time she's ever told him about that incident.

His jaw is set as she tells the story, and her hands tremble when she mentions the way Greg tortured her, feels the pain again as she relives those horrible moments. Robin sees her folding into herself in a protective stance as she speaks, and it makes him want to revive the man only to kill him again for doing this to her. More than anything, though, he just feels sad. It pains him because he knows now that she's had to deal with these things alone throughout her life, that she's been used and abused, bruised and battered by so many people that she refused to live in the light. But he's here now, and he'll do whatever he can to make it better, so he reaches over and grabs her hand, tugging on it so she understands, and Regina leaves her glass and scarf on the floor and gets up on her knees to wobble over to him, sagging against him when she sits sideways on his lap, her cheek on the side of his forehead. Robin holds her, one arm around her back and the other resting across her thighs, murmuring sweet things against her neck, planting kisses in her hair, and then she tilts her head down and he's kissing her lips, long and soft and warm, every feeling he has for her pouring into this dance of their mouths that he can't get enough of.

When air becomes a necessity, he parts from her, only to bend his head and rest it on her shoulder, his nose burrowing into her neck as he tightens his arms around her waist, and she sighs in contentment.

* * *

 

They're lying down on the blanket now, Robin's upper body propped up on the larger cushions, his arm wrapped around Regina as she curls into his side and rests her head on his shoulder, her fingers raking up and down his chest every now and then while they talk some more, this time of happier memories, of funnier moments, and the atmosphere is light and gorgeous as they lie there, enjoying each other.

"You're kidding!" she says when he reveals a particularly amusing anecdote from one of his robberies. He laughs a little as he remembers the day in question, when he was running around some lord's mansion, dripping wet and wearing nothing but his boots as he tried to outrun the man.

"I didn't think he'd come back from the village so soon, and he had a very large tub, a bath sounded like a good idea at the time," he tells her, shrugging one shoulder and loving the sound of her laughter and the warmth of her breath against his shirt.

As the night goes on and they grow more quiet, he moves his free hand from where it rests on top of hers on his chest and takes out a small container from the basket, revealing the juicy, red grapes he'd brought for dessert, and he feeds a few to her as they lie there, neither of them willing to leave their lazy embrace.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" he asks her, popping a grape in his mouth as they both look up at the sky. He feels her nod against his chest when she hums in agreement.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful the stars were," she murmurs, her eyes fixed upwards.

"I take it you don't do a lot of star gazing, then?" he asks her, his arm still around her, his fingers absentmindedly drawing random patterns against her shoulder blades.

"I used to. When I was a child, my father used to take me out onto the roof of our house late at night whenever I had a bad dream. We'd stay out there for hours, just looking at the stars."

"Why did you stop?"

"The nightmares became less frequent and easier to bear as I grew up, until one day I just… never went back out," she tells him, and feels the soft "hmm" he utters in answer against the top of her head, the hand at her back continuing its ministrations while the other plays with her fingers on top of his chest.

"After Daniel died, the bad dreams returned," she continues after a few seconds of charged silence, and he stiffens a little before tightening his hold on her, letting her know it's alright to talk about it.

"It was always the same image of him, writhing in pain and dying in my arms. I tried going out one night to see if the stars would relax me like they used to, but I was living in the castle by then and it all just felt... wrong somehow, so I never attempted it again... until today," Regina says, and for a moment he's nervous, he had not meant for their night together to stir bad memories for her and he's about to apologize, but she sighs and burrows closer to him, kissing his hand where it's joined with hers on his chest and tilting her head to look up at him.

"I'm glad you brought me here," she says, easing his worries, and with a tender smile he pushes away from the cushions, capturing her lips. It starts off soft, innocent, but after a few seconds he turns until their positions are somewhat reverted and it's him that lies half on top of her, his leg wedging itself between both of hers, one of his hands wondering down her body while the other supports his weight. He nips her bottom lip and then lets the tip of his tongue slip into her mouth, savoring her and feeling a shiver run through him when she moans softly against him.

Robin drops his head down to press a trail of kisses on her neck, her head lolling back to give him more room, and she whimpers at the feeling of his lips on her skin. Gently, oh so gently, he tugs at the sash of her jacket, lowering the zipper slowly and pushing the leather aside, pulling away to bask in the breathtaking view of her.

The top two buttons of her shirt are open, and he can see by the dull light from the lanterns that her skin is flushed. His hand runs up her side, pausing on her ribcage before he looks into her eyes, brown and dark and open, vulnerable to his every word, his every action. She gives a small, almost imperceptible nod to his unspoken question, and so he moves his hand a little further up to cup her breast over her shirt, his entire body tingling when she arches into his touch.

Their kisses become bumpy and hurried, the sexual energy suddenly taking over, and though it takes every ounce of self-control he has, Robin manages to slow them down again, his lips growing gentler, more languid against hers, though the raw desire they have for each other remains in the air, heating their very skin.

"Why did you stop?" she asks, her voice husky, and she rolls her hips against his, letting him know she can tell how aroused he is.

"As much as I like where this is going, I did promise your son I would have you home by eleven," he gasps out when her fingers skim the skin of his navel under his shirt, but he remains resolute, moving away from her and getting up rather quickly, dusting himself off unnecessarily before offering a hand to her. Regina takes it, her lips twitching at the corners.

"Such a gentleman," she tells him, sashaying her way to the spot she'd sat on when they arrived so she could grab her scarf, purposefully bending over in front of him to pick up the garment before getting up slowly.

"Tease," he growls, knowing exactly what she's doing. Regina giggles, wrapping her scarf around her neck and combing her disheveled hair with her fingers. They drain the wine that's left on their glasses and put the leftovers back in the basket, with Robin popping one last grape into his mouth before he offers one to her. She opens her mouth willingly, accepting the fruit straight from his hand and letting the tip of her tongue dart out to lick his fingers, loving the way his eyes darken when she does it.

"You are nothing but trouble," he says.

"You do know Henry's staying at Emma's tonight, right? He won't know what time I get home," she tells him, and Robin smiles at her and nods.

"That's why he taught me how to text, so I can let him know when we've made it to your door," he replies, chuckling at her when her eyes widen.

"He loves you, Regina, he wants to protect you," he explains, and she feels warmth flood through her at the thought that her little boy is looking out for her, making sure that she's alright, even after everything she's done, after how much damage she did to him.

Robin can sense the direction her thoughts are taking from the way her brow furrows slightly, and he walks over to her quickly, taking her hands in his and holding them on either side of her.

"You're not that person anymore," he says, leaning forward and brushing his lips against hers, and once again she's astonished by the fact that he can notice these things, that he just knows what she's thinking and instantly attempts to reassure her.

"Sometimes I'm not so sure about that," she tells him, "and then days like this happen and I can almost believe that I…" she trails off.

"That you what?" he asks. She shakes her head, trying to brush it off, but Robin lets go of one of her hands and hooks his index finger under her chin, tilting her head up to catch her eyes, and the concern reflected in his blue orbs pull the truth out of her.

"That I really can be happy," she finally says, and Robin sighs, looking down for a moment before he leans forward yet again and kisses her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Of course you can, and you won't ever have to doubt that again," he says vehemently, and she feels her eyes well up with tears, tears that he kisses away before they have a chance to spill.

They arrive at her mansion at 10:51pm, and Robin promptly texts Henry to let him know they've made it back. Henry's reply of _'Good, you've passed the test. Tell mom good night for me!'_ has them both laughing, and that light, sweet sound bubbling out of her makes Robin kiss her fervently, promising silently to himself that he will never give her cause to doubt his feelings for her, nor will he ever stop showing her how much she deserves to be free and loved and _happy_.

"So, how was this for a first date?" he asks her when they've parted and his forehead rests on hers, both their eyes closed as they sigh contentedly against each other.

"Eh, it was alright," she says off-handedly with a shrug of her shoulders, opening her eyes to look at him and resisting the urge to laugh at the indignant expression on his face.

"Just alright?" he asks, and she can see he's truly worried now, so she places a hand on his cheek and grins before kissing him again, her lips lingering against his. They part with a small, wet pop, and she lets her thumb caress the apple of his cheek for a moment before she speaks.

"Silly thief, it was perfect," she tells him, and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Robin sighs in relief, pecking her lips quickly and wishing her a good night, but she stops him before he's even fully turned around to leave, grabbing his jacket and smacking his body against hers, her lips attaching themselves to his neck.

"And just where do you think you're going?" she asks against his skin.

"Um… I uh… home?" he says, his Adam's apple bobbing repeatedly as she starts to suck at his pulse point.

"I have a better idea," she says once she's pulled away from him, giving him that sexy smirk he loves so much. Not loosening her hold on his jacket, she drags him inside and up the stairs.

"Why, your majesty, isn't this a bit forward of you? It's only our first date, after all," he teases when she starts to undress him.

"Shut up and kiss me, thief," she taunts back with a grin.

"You just want me for my body," he fake-whines, but follows her order anyway.

Afterwards, they lie together on her bed, wrapped up in her soft sheets, limbs tangled together as he plants tiny kisses over her face and neck before he flops back on his pillow and lets out a laugh.

"What is it?" she asks, moving closer to him and propping her head on her hand, her elbow bent against the pillow, her hair in disarray. Robin shakes his head at himself, wrapping Regina in his arms with her chest against his and planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Best first date _ever_ ," he finally says, and she laughs with him.

"Couldn't agree more."


	12. All of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse future shot.

His lips drop kisses on her spine, waking her up from her slumber.

"You really need to stop doing that when I'm trying to sleep," she says, and feels Robin chuckle against her skin, his stubble tickling her back.

"I want to show you something," he tells her.

"Whatever it is, it can wait until morning," she says, burrowing her face further into her pillow, but he doesn't stop, his lips moving from the small of her back up to her shoulder blades in a path of light, butterfly kisses. Regina shivers when he moves to her left to kiss a particular spot close to the side of her breast and she knows he's doing it on purpose.

"Robin," she says again, meaning to complain, to tell him that she's tired, but her voice is husky now that his hand has found her hip under the covers, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on it.

"Regina," he groans, and she knows he's mocking her, so she sighs and turns around, opening her eyes to look into his.

"What is it?" she asks.

"Come with me," he tells her, getting up from the bed and offering his hand to her.

"Now? It's two in the morning," she whines when she looks at the clock on her nightstand.

"Yes, now. Come on," he says, smiling at her with a light in his eyes she's not sure she's seen there before. Something is definitely up.

Stretching, she rises from the bed, the sheets falling from her naked body, and she looks around for her robe, but he stops her, and that's when she notices he's fully dressed in his jeans and the long sleeve, dark green shirt he'd been wearing when they arrived.

"As much as I like you like this," he says with a cheeky smirk, "I think it's best if you wear something warmer than that robe."

"Why? Where are you taking me?" she asks, confused.

"Get dressed, and you'll see," he says, winking at her and giving her that infuriating grin that tells her he's planning something. Regina relents, though her eyes are suspicious as she looks at him.

After a few minutes of sleepily fumbling for her clothes, Regina is dressed in black lounge pants and her blue silk pajama top, his jacket draped over her as they step out of the house with bare feet and quiet breaths. It's cold, almost unbearably so, and she immediately regrets not putting on her slippers, but that's not what makes her gasp. No, what makes her breath hitch is the sight that awaits them. Everything, from her garden to the sidewalk, even the streets are all covered in a thick coat of snow, flurries still falling all around them, and there's a warm glow from the lights of her porch where they're standing that makes the entire setting look cozy and inviting despite the bitter cold that makes her cheeks go red and her nose numb.

"First snow of the season," he says in a low voice as he wraps his arms around her waist from behind.

"It's beautiful," she says as she lets her head fall back against him, resting her arms on top of his where they meet at her stomach, and she sighs contentedly when he brings his face down to place a kiss on her neck and bury his nose in her hair.

"I love you, Regina," he whispers in her ear, and the giddy smile that appears on her lips is one she can't ever stop from forming whenever he says those words.

"I love you too," she echoes, the sincerity in her voice making him tighten his hold on her before he smiles against her shoulder.

"I was hoping you'd say that," he tells her, and she feels one of his arms leave her body as he shifts behind her. She doesn't have to ask what he's doing, though, because seconds later, his hand comes back in front of her and it's holding a ring, two thin, white gold bands braided together with a single round-cut diamond on top. She gasps, trying to move so she can see him, but he holds her steady, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I think it's about time you made an honest man out of me, your majesty," he breathes, and Regina can feel the grin on his face as he speaks. She turns in his arms and this time, he lets her, smiling at the questioning look on her face.

"Robin?" she asks in a whisper, and he lets go of her for a moment so he can bend down on one knee, looking up at her with the ring still in his hand.

"I've been carrying this around with me for weeks, trying to find the proper time to ask you, and then I saw the snow and you looked so beautiful and peaceful in bed and I just… knew," he says as he uses his free hand to hold one of hers, and there are tears in her eyes, but she says nothing.

"I know you still have a hard time believing that you deserve to be happy, and I know that you're afraid I won't love you when you show me the darker sides of you. But I've told you before and I'm telling you again now that you don't have to hide from me. I love you, _all of you,_ not just the parts you think I like to see. You're witty and sexy and stubborn, you love fiercely, you don't let me get away with anything, and you share every aspect of yourself with me even when your mind sometimes screams at you not to. You are frustrating, and beautiful, and caring, and I love you with every bit of my soul."

She's looking at him with the biggest smile he's ever seen on her, and he knows, he knows she finally believes him, that she's allowing herself to soak up his words and embrace them at last, and it only spurs him on.

"My life is nothing without you, Regina, so I'm asking that you let me spend it showing you how much I love you. Marry me, and let me spend the rest of my days making you happy," he finishes, and he's surprised at the way his voice becomes hoarse at the end of his speech, his emotions taking over him in a way he had not expected them to. He's so caught up in blinking back the tears that have suddenly formed in his eyes that he misses the nod she gives him, but stops as soon as she falls to her knees in front of him, her hands cupping his face as she breathes a heartfelt "yes" in his ear and he can't believe what he's hearing, so he asks for confirmation.

"Really?!"

"Yes, I'll marry you," she says, chuckling at the expression on his face, and all of a sudden she's wrapped in his arms as he murmurs "I love you" over and over again as he moves them upwards, standing up again with her pressed against him.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he says after a moment, and she laughs, because he's silly and ridiculous and everything feels just right. Finally there's no dark shadow hanging over her and waiting to pounce, and as Robin kisses her with fervor, she can't stop the happy tears from falling. Finally, she doesn't have to become someone else, a queen, a witch, a killer. No. Finally, she can be _Regina_ , because this man, this gorgeous, loving man, wants _her_ , _all_ of her, forever.


	13. I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse future shot.

He's asleep beside her, and she's taking advantage of it. She loves moments like this, where he's unaware that she's looking and she can trace her fingers down his face, marveling at the fact that he's here, that he wants her.

They'd spent the day together, walking around town with Roland and Henry, sharing a picnic by the park and being silly, lovesick fools the entire time. She hasn't said it to him yet, but she knows how she feels. It burns in her soul, and the smile that he put on her face when they kissed for the first time is a permanent fixture now, because this is good, because she is _happy_.

"I love you," she whispers, trying out the words and surprised at the tears that build in her eyes as she does, and she burrows closer to him, inhaling his woodsy smell and basking in the warmth of his body lying face-down next to hers.

She's shocked, however, when she sees the corner of his mouth turn up a little, and his eyes blink open to look into hers. Mortified, she realizes he's heard her, and the panic that grips her is evident in her face, but he grins wider, bringing his hand out from under the pillow to cup her cheek and caress it with his thumb.

"Oh, my love," he breathes, as if relieved, and she's smiling through her tears, letting out a sniffle that she tries to hide by burying her face in the pillow next to him, but he's having none of it. Coaxing her head closer, he kisses her, long and slow and deep, and he hums into her mouth when she sucks on his bottom lip just the way he likes it.

"Say it again," he murmurs against her lips, and she gives him a tender smile in return, because he's looking at her like he can't believe she finally said it.

"I love you," she repeats, and the warmth that flows through him is wonderful and overwhelming.

They're lying on their sides now, facing each other, so his hand trails from where he's holding her head, down the length of her arm until he can lace his fingers with hers.

"You've no idea how much I've been wanting to hear you say that," he tells her, bringing their joint hands to his lips to place a kiss on her knuckles, then leaning closer to drop another on her forehead, then one on the tip of her nose, and yet another on her lips. She sighs at the contact, kissing him back and letting her tongue play with his, tasting him until a tiny whimper escapes her.

"I love you too, Regina," he finally echoes, and she lets out a watery laugh.

"I love you so much," he says, over and over again as he plants kisses on her neck, her chest, the valley between her breasts.

"Show me," she gasps, arching against him when his mouth finds her nipple, and he does. With every kiss, every touch, ever breath, he shows her how much he loves her, conveys time and again the depth of his feelings for her, murmuring things like how much he needs her, how much he can't live without her, how much he wants this, wants _her_ , forever.

They come together, his name a breathless cry on her lips as they move against each other in perfect rhythm, and he collapses on top of her as they topple over the edge.

All he can do afterwards is hold her, pecking her lips repeatedly as his hands run through her hair, splaying it out on the pillow. When he tries to move off of her, she stops him, holding him tighter against her body.

"Don't," she says, squeezing him in her arms, "just… stay here a little longer."

"But I'm crushing you," he says with a breathless chuckle as he tries to move again.

"I don't care, I just want to feel you," she tells him simply, and Robin looks at her, taking in her beauty for a moment before bending his head down to kiss her languidly.

"I love you," he says again when they part, and she knows she'll never get tired of hearing those words. Smiling, she finally lets him slip out of her and turns so he can lie back down behind her. His arm snakes around her stomach to bring her closer, and she sighs contentedly when she feels the warmth of his chest against her back, his lips planting a tiny kiss on her shoulder.

"I love you too," she says again before they drift off to sleep with matching grins on their faces.


	14. Whipped Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Smutty.

It's official, Robin Hood loves whipped cream.

Regina stares in amazement as Ruby puts a plate of it in front of him, and upon closer inspection she realizes that there's a small stack of pancakes underneath the stuff.

"What has gotten into you?" she asks, amused at the happy expression on his face.

"I've never tasted anything so delicious," he tells her with the excitement of a child.

"Whipped cream? Really?" she says, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You can't tell me you don't like it," he says in disbelief.

"Can't really say I'm a fan. Especially not when there's… so much of it," she replies, looking down at the copious amounts of whipped cream still on his plate.

"This realm has many wonders, but this is by far my favorite," he tells her, and she chuckles at his enthusiasm.

"If this is what you do with pancakes, I'm anxious about how you'll react when you try it on ice cream," she jokes, and his eyes grow mischievous all of a sudden.

"I would much rather try it on something far more appealing than ice cream," he says.

"Like what?" she asks, still not catching on to his plan.

"Why you, of course," he winks, and Regina can feel herself blushing, but shakes her head right away.

"No. You are not covering me in that sticky, sugary mess," she admonishes, whispering so that the rest of the diner can't hear them, and Robin leans closer, his lips by her ear.

"Not even if I promise to lick it all off?" he asks, and smiles in satisfaction when her breath hitches as she turns to look at him, her eyes darkening with desire.

He makes good on that promise later that night, when he licks her clean of all the whipped cream he's spread on her, humming in pleasure as he kisses her and the taste of it mixes with the taste of _her_. When they part, he adds more whipped cream to his index finger and slowly puts it in her mouth, groaning when her tongue swirls around it and her lips suck the sweet concoction right off. His mouth flies to her neck, where he sucks and nips and licks at her, and she arches into him, moaning loudly in his ear.

"God, I love it when you do that," he tells her, his voice hoarse against her neck, and she hums in response, her fingers threading through his hair and pulling when she feels his teeth sink into her skin.

"Oh!" she gasps when his hand drops down and his fingers venture inside her, and then she screams when his mouth follows his fingers, his tongue lapping at her as he moans and sucks at her clit. His fingers curve and thrust upwards inside her, and he knows he's hitting that spot she likes so much, so he does it again, and again, until she's breathless and pulling at his hair, her cries of "Don't stop," and "Yes!" like music to his ears, and he can't stop the smug grin that takes over his face when she comes fast and hard against his mouth, her hands still clutching his hair as he licks and sucks his way around her inner thighs with a low _Mmm_ that vibrates against her and makes her whimper.

When she tugs on his hair to bring him up, he follows willingly, planting a hot kiss on her mouth and letting her taste herself on him.

"So, have I changed your mind?" he asks with a smirk.

"Oh, I love whipped cream," she says, making him laugh as he goes in for another kiss.


	15. Midnight Stroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Prompt: "Are you flirting with me?"

Robin of Locksley had always had trouble sleeping. As he grew older, he'd taken to wondering whichever area he'd be occupying at the time, walking around and taking in the still beauty of the night in order to draw some comfort from it, and hopefully that would be enough to lull him back to sleep when he reached his bed again. However, he had never had to deal with being confined to a castle, and wondering its corridors instead of being allowed to roam the outside seemed to only annoy him further, rather than soothe him enough to sleep.

"Is everything alright?" a voice asked from behind him, and he turned to find the queen standing at the end of the hall he'd ventured into, her eyebrow raised at him in question.

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?" he snapped, and she pursed her lips at him.

"Well you look like a caged lion waiting to pounce, for starters, and you're about to wear a hole in my carpet from all the pacing you're doing," she fired at him, her disdain clear on her face.

"If you must know, your majesty, I hate this place," he told her, and his sass should have bothered her, but it only intrigued her more.

"So why don't you leave?" she spat.

"Because right now, it's the safest place for my boy, I'd be damned if I let your beloved sister harm him just because I couldn't stay put."

"Roland seems to love the castle," she said, and her bite was somewhat diminished by the fondness with which she spoke his son's name.

"He does. Me on the other hand, I don't do well trapped within walls."

"Who says you're trapped?"

"Princess Snow, Prince David, everyone at the council."

"They forbid you to leave the castle too?" she asked with genuine curiosity, and he shrugged.

"Not in so many words, but they keep stressing on how utterly important it is to stay within the palace walls and how we must avoid putting ourselves in the Wicked Witch's line of sight at all costs. They're being very diplomatic about it, offering me and my men every comfort and I'm thankful, but a cage is a cage, no matter how fine the draperies that hang within it."

His words startled her, not because of the anger they were laced with, but because she felt the exact same way. With her heartbreak over Henry so fresh, Regina had needed a way to unwind, to distract herself, and that was impossible to do when they were all forced to stay inside the castle, with even the gardens barred and labeled as off limits until they figured out how to defeat Zelena. It was infuriating.

What baffled her, however, was not just the fact that she had something in common with the thief, but also the fact that she wanted to make this situation more endurable for him.

"Come with me," she said before her common sense kicked in and she decided against helping him, turning around and walking away without waiting for him to join her, knowing he would follow.

They walked in silence a few paces, and Robin had a hard time keeping up with the queen as she wove her way through corridors, left and right through hidden doors and secret passageways, up several flights of stairs until finally, she pushed open a heavy door and gestured for him to walk through.

Suddenly, they were outside, nothing above them but the sky and the moon, and all around them he could see the mountains, the lake, and the entire kingdom. Looking down, he realized they were standing on the roof of the castle.

"We're still in the palace so technically, we're not breaking any rules," she said with a satisfied grin, and for the first time since they'd met, he smiled at her.

"This is wonderful," he commented as he looked around at the breathtaking view.

They were standing far enough away from each other that he couldn't touch her even if he stretched out his arm, and he quickly realized how much he disliked that, suddenly feeling the urge to be closer to her. It seemed they both felt caged in, which meant she must have been as desperate as he was for some semblance of freedom, and yet she'd chosen to share the closest thing she had to it with him.

"Why are you showing me this?" he asked her.

"I find it helps me feel less… trapped, coming up here at night," she answered, her eyes focused on the vast expanse of land that stretched out ahead, never turning her head to look at him.

"Ah! You know the feeling, then," he told her, turning around and resting his back against the railings that lined the space, his eyes focused on the view to the other side of the castle, where the lake sparkled in the moonlight.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to share this place with me, if I'm ever in need of space?" he enquired, and she hummed noncommittally, leaning her hands against the railing.

"Is that a yes?"

"It's a 'maybe', if you shut up and let me enjoy the quiet," she admonished, wrapping her arms around herself and turning all the way away from him, regretting having shown him the way up here now that she realized she'd probably not be able to grieve on her own.

"I won't intrude on your space if you do not want me to, your majesty," he said, understanding her hesitation, "we may not see eye to eye on many things, but I understand the need to be alone in a place that is your own. Besides, I must admit, I have no idea how we got here, so I won't be venturing here unannounced, if that's what you're worried about."

"You're welcome to join me, if we cross paths during the night," she conceded, and he thanked her, sighing as he turned back to look at the lake.

Several moments passed, and Robin turned to see a single tear sliding down the queen's face, but he said nothing, merely looking at her and truly admiring her for the first time. The moonlight lit up her face, showcasing the soft curve of her lips, the smoothness of her skin, and her eyelashes cast diminutive shadows when they brushed against the tops of her cheeks as she blinked the tears away. She was beautiful and sad and broken, and his anger at her for whatever trivial motives he may have had dissipated as he found himself wanting to know her, to be closer to her.

"Every time I come here I marvel at how gorgeous this place is," she starts, surprising even herself as she continues the conversation, "I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful."

"Oh, I don't know," he told her, his eyes never straying from her, not even bothering to look out at the landscape anymore, "I'd say the sight right in front of me is way more beautiful than the Enchanted Forest."

She turned to look at him then, her lip scrunching up in disbelief as she spoke.

"Are you flirting with me?" she asked incredulously.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he answered, but the cheeky grin on his lips said differently, and she shook her head, turning back around to stare at the lake some more.

They walked down together, with Robin escorting her to her chambers and trying as hard as he could to prolong their time together, but when she yawned discreetly into her hand, he decided to say his goodbyes.

"Thank you for tonight, your majesty," he told her, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles.

"Regina," she murmured.

"Pardon?"

"I prefer Regina," she told him, "when we're alone, at least," and the wink she gave him, paired with the faintest of smiles that showed up on her lips had Robin grinning like an idiot the entire way back to his room, where he slept soundly and peacefully for the rest of the night.


	16. Late to the Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse.  
> Prompt: "That's a good look for you."

Regina stared at herself in the mirror, grimacing at the outfit she had on and cursing Tinkerbell for convincing her that this was a good idea.

The fairy had taken quite a liking to this world, enjoying all it had to offer and embracing its many traditions. Tonight was no different. It was Halloween, and Tinkerbell had insisted that they had a costume party. Regina had refused right off the bat, but Roland and Henry had sounded so excited at the suggestion that her resolve cracked in a matter of seconds, and the fairy had taken advantage of that and insisted she let her pick a costume for her, something that Regina had agreed to and deeply regretted, as she now found herself decked in cheap, burgundy colored velvet from head to toe.

The dress was long and form-fitting, with an empire waist and long sleeves that capped at the shoulders, growing wider in an angle down her arms, the tips of them almost touching the ground. The skirt was light and open as it flowed into a small train that trailed over the floor as she moved. The neckline was square and modest, though the tops of her breasts peaked out from the fabric.

"That's a good look for you," Robin's voice came from the doorway, and she turned around to find him walking towards her with a hunger in his eyes that made her blush and look down.

"I feel like a peasant," she grumbled, scratching her arm where the fabric itched against her skin.

"But a very enticing peasant," he winked as he wrapped his arms around her, "my Juliet."

He was dressed in simple black velvet trousers and a matching jacket that he hadn't bothered to button, leather boots and a cream colored linen shirt that had ruffles on the chest and cuffs.

"You don't look so bad yourself, Romeo," she grinned. It was ridiculous, that Tinkerbell had decided to dress them as the cheesiest, most tragic couple in the literary history of this realm, but anything dark and evil on Regina would only remind everyone of her past persona, and that was something she really wanted to avoid, so the typical Halloween costume options of vampires and witches had been discarded. Not that dressing like a lovesick fourteen year-old girl was something she enjoyed, but it would have to do.

"I don't know why I let her talk me into this," she insisted, extricating herself from his arms and turning back to the mirror and fixing her hair and makeup again. She'd opted for something simple and soft, with her hair down and curled slightly at the ends, light shades of eye shadow and just a hint of eyeliner, with a pinkish nude color on her lips.

"Well I, for one, am deeply grateful that you did," Robin whispered in her ear as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, her back smacking a little against his chest, and Regina whimpered pathetically at the feeling of his hot breath against her skin.

"How long until we have to show up at this party?" he asked in a husky voice, turning her and bending down to suck at her neck.

"We should have been there by now," she sighed against his hair, her eyes closing when his teeth bit down on her shoulder.

"Hmm, what if we stay here and have a little party of our own," he murmured as his lips moved up to her jaw, his stubble scratching deliciously against the skin of her neck.

"Tinkerbell and Snow will kill us, and so will Roland and Henry if they arrive before we do," she replied, trying to reason with him, but it was clear from her tone that he had her. Squeezing her tighter against him, he bit her bottom lip, coaxing her into a heated kiss that had his tongue savoring hers languidly, slowly, and the tiny moan that escaped her reverberated against him.

"Robin, we really have to go, Emma will be there with the boys soon," she said halfheartedly against his mouth, and he threaded his hands in her hair, pulling on it just a little. He was rewarded with one of her sexy little whimpers he loved so much, and finally, she gave in.

"Oh so we're a little late," she said, succumbing to his charms and his touch and his mouth, letting him do with her as he pleased and loving every second of it.

They arrived at the party an hour after they were supposed to, his shirt untucked and rumpled, her hair no longer in its carefully crafted curls, and though the knowing smirk they got from Emma told them she knew exactly why they were late, Regina couldn't bring herself to care.


	17. Dimples

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Missing year fluff.  
> Prompt: "Can we pretend I didn't just say that?"

"Regina! Regina!" the little boy shouted as he entered the library, running at full speed and not stopping until he smacked right into her legs, making her stumble backwards a little, but she smiled all the same, hiking her long skirt up just a little so she could crouch down in front of him.

"Good morning, Roland," she told him, reveling in the way his little arms wrapped around her neck as he hugged her.

Out of every single person in this castle, Roland was the only one who had no fear, no apprehension around her. He loved her freely, defended her from those who dared look at her the wrong way, he even called himself her knight, escorting her to meals and kissing her hand as he ran off to battle imaginary dragons to win her favor.  
Regina had not wanted him near her at first, had preferred any reminder of Henry to stay as far away from her as possible, and Roland was as strong a reminder as it was possible to be, so she had been adamant about not spending time with him, but the boy was persistent, sneaking out of his room early in the mornings to see her in the library, where he knew she'd be hiding from the world, crying and missing her son. She had no idea how he knew, but he did, and he had stayed with her, saying nothing and running his hand up and down her arm until she stopped crying, and one day she agreed to play with him, and then another day she read him a story. As time passed, a beautiful friendship had developed between them, and now it was routine for them to meet in the library when he woke up, if only to spend some time together doing any of the random, silly things he liked to do.

"Regina, Little John says I'm going to be as big and brave as my papa when I grow up, is that true?" he asked her, looking up at her with those big doe eyes of his that could melt her if they wanted to.

"Of course, Roland," she told him, "you'll be tall and brave and handsome, just like your father."

"You think papa is handsome?" he asked.

"Yes, very much so," Regina replied, trying and failing to hide the blush on her cheeks.

"What's handsome about him?" he prodded, his curiosity endless. Regina thought for a moment, tapping her chin and looking down at the boy before she smiled and gently poked the tiny indent on Roland's left cheek.

"His dimples. He has dimples just like you. I like them a lot."

"Do you, now?" a deep voice sounded from behind her, and Regina turned around to find Robin watching them from where he stood, leaning against one of the many bookshelves that lined the vast library.

"Oh, no," she whined, her head falling into her palm in exasperation, "can we pretend I didn't just say that?" she asked him, but he shook his head and smirked at her.

"Oh, but you did, your majesty," he teased, sauntering his way towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist while Roland laughed at their interaction.

To the outside world, they despised each other, but when Roland had insisted on spending time with Regina, Robin had decided to join them from time to time and, surprisingly, he had enjoyed her company. Sometimes he even missed her, and then one day when Roland had fallen asleep on his favorite cushy armchair, Robin and Regina had talked and talked about their lives, their fears, their feelings, and suddenly he'd found himself kissing her, savoring her soft, warm lips and becoming addicted to them in seconds.

Roland had caught them making out like teenagers one night, so they'd been forced to explain their secret arrangement to him, but the boy had been so excited to be part of something no one else knew about that he had been silent as a tomb about the whole ordeal, and so the queen and the outlaw had been able to continue their romance while the castle inhabitants remained oblivious. It was thrilling, sneaking around the castle, finding hidden corners, little nooks and crannies where they could spend stolen moments together, simply holding each other or engaging in heated kisses to apologize for the harsh words spoken in front of the unsuspecting Charmings during council meetings.

"So, you have a thing for my dimples, huh?" he asked, amused at how embarrassed she looked. She was flustered and adorable, and he couldn't stop smiling at her.

"You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?" she countered, and he shook his head, smile still in place, nuzzling her neck and leaving a trail of tiny pecks there as he held her closer to him, her sweet scent permeating the air around him.

"Never," he replied, lifting his head to place a tender kiss on her lips.


	18. I Want You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Post-Marian. Smut. Robin chooses Regina.  
> Prompt: "I need this."

Regina doesn't have time to react to seeing Robin outside her door before he's pinning her against the wall of her porch in a heated kiss, a kiss she stops almost as soon as it starts, with a few blissful seconds in between where she lets herself enjoy having him close again.

"What is wrong with you?!" she exclaims, pushing him off her even as her body itches to pull him closer. He knows he should've explained first, but he is starved for her, his soul screaming with the need to have her in his arms and taste her lips again.

"Regina—" he begins, but she shakes her head, cutting him off.

"Go back to your wife, Robin," she says before moving to close the door on him, but he stops her, wedging his foot inside and grabbing her hands in his.

"Regina, I don't—" but she stops him again.

"Go home. It's the middle of the night, I'm sure Marian's waiting for you," she says as she turns around, walking further into the house and leaving him standing by the door.

"She's not," he says, and she stops moving, but doesn't turn around to look at him.

"What do you mean?" she asks, her back to him.

"Marian's not waiting for me, she left the camp this morning. Granny gave her a room."

"Then go to Granny's, I don't care, just leave me be," she says in exasperation, and he gives a humorless laugh. Of course she would think he was correcting the semantics of the situation, when really he's admitting he and his wife have parted ways.

"Regina," he says again, walking towards her slowly and grabbing her hand, turning her to look at him. Her eyes are shining with tears that he knows she's fighting very hard not to shed, and his heart breaks for her, he cannot believe he didn't realize his feelings for her sooner.

"Marian isn't waiting for me, because we are no longer together," he tells her slowly, looking straight into her eyes and rubbing circles on the skin of her hand where he holds it in his.

"You… why?" she asks, not fully grasping the extent of what he's saying.

"Because as much as I care for her, she's not the woman I love, hasn't been in a very long time."

"But Roland—"

"Will still get to know his mother and grow to love her just as much as she loves him, but she is no longer my wife," he continues, his free hand reaching up to hook a finger under her chin, raising her face towards his so he can brush the tip of his nose against hers.

"Why are you here, Robin?" she asks, her voice trembling.

"Because I want _you_ , Regina," he answers without a hint of doubt.

"You… you want this?" she still can't believe what she's hearing, so he makes sure to look straight into her eyes before he speaks again, with fervor this time.

"I _need_ this," he tells her, "I need _you._ I need _us._ "

And then he's kissing her, all heat and tongues and desperation, the sweet, wonderful taste of her lips mixing with the saltiness of her tears, and he doesn't stop, he can't stop, because her hands are on him now, stripping him of his clothes just as he rips her silk pajamas off, his fingers fisting in the soft fabric as he pulls it haphazardly from her body, baring her to him.

The sounds that come out of her when he sucks on her nipple drive him crazy, and the way she's digging her nails into his bare shoulders only spurs him on, slamming her hard against the wall. It is fast and rough, because they are hungry for each other, have been desperate for this for longer than they care to admit, and they are both moaning when he finds her wet and ready, her name a breathless cry on his lips as he thrusts one, two, and then three of his fingers into her repeatedly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he hoists her up, her body finding purchase on the wall behind her.

When he's finally buried deep inside of her, she is gasping for breath, and he has missed her so much that he is greedy, moving his hips in ways that have her screaming his name over and over again as he pounds her against the wall. His mouth flies to hers again, and he bites on her bottom lip when her nails dig harder into his back, his thrusts growing faster and more erratic as their climax continues to build, and suddenly he can't hold himself upright anymore, his knees going weak from the tidal wave of pleasure that grips him when she rolls her hips and holds on to his neck, breathing heavily in his ear and letting out the sexiest little whimper as she comes with him.

Spent and sated, they tumble to the floor, the plush carpet serving as a bed for now, and he holds her close, planting tiny kisses all over her face. The moment is tender and sweet, a complete contrast to the hot and sweaty actions of just seconds before, and she sighs contentedly against his neck, planting a kiss on his shoulder and moving away to look up at him, her head propped up on her arm as she lies on her side, her breasts pressed against his chest, their noses touching.

"I love you, Regina," he breathes against her lips, and she smiles through teary eyes that close when she bridges the small gap between them in a slow, burning kiss, one full of promises and feelings that she's too overwhelmed to speak of right now, but he knows, he can feel it in the way she squeezes his hand when it moves to hold hers, can hear it in the satisfied hum she gives him when he turns them so that he's half on top of her as they kiss languidly, can taste it in the softness of her lips as they suck gently on his, and everything is right in his world again.


	19. Late Night Swim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Missing Year.  
> Prompt: "You want me to do WHAT?!"

"You want me to do _what_?!" Regina thundered, and Robin carefully stepped away from her after he'd whispered his proposal.

"You heard me," he told her, smiling in satisfaction.

"That is hardly fair. I will not compromise my dignity for the forgiveness of a thief," she spat.

They were in a large study, one of her many private spaces within the castle. She'd insulted him and was fearful that he might retaliate by leaving, and she didn't think she could handle seeing Roland go, so she had called the outlaw in to apologize for the harsh comment she'd made as they were scouting Rumple's palace, and while he was glad that she seemed genuinely contrite about the incident, he couldn't resist playing with her, saying there was only one way he would forgive her for the slight.

"You were the one who disdainfully mocked the way we bathe," he told her.

"That does not mean I should jump naked in the river! I do not want your forgiveness that bad, thank you," she countered, her nose up in the air so as to retain some of her superiority.

"Then I suppose Roland will have to find a new friend in the castle," he said. It was a cheap shot, using his son and her fondness for him, but he knew she'd relent that way. They'd become quite close, and she couldn't stay away from Roland any more than the boy could be kept away from her.

"Oh that is low, even for you," she said angrily, and he shrugged noncommittally at her.

"You could jump in the lake right now, if you'd rather that than the river in the woods. It's the middle of the night, no one will be watching," he suggested after a few minutes of silence.

Regina huffed, muttering an annoyed "fine!" with a roll of her eyes and conjuring a thick blanket out of thin air before she headed out of the study and to the main doors of the castle, with Robin hurrying to keep up.

They walked to the far end of the wall that lined the tallest tower. The queen knew her castle well, its hidden nooks and all its blind spots, so she made certain to find a place that would shield her from prying eyes if any were to be looking out the windows.

"If you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, I will roast you. Understood?" she threatened him, and Robin nodded with a laugh.

"As you wish, your majesty," he joked.

"Some privacy, please?" she asked in an exasperated tone, and he rolled his eyes at her.

"Don't worry, I won't peek," he said, turning around to allow her some time to remove her clothes, "unless you want me to," he finished, throwing her a smirk over his shoulder.

"Don't flatter yourself, thief," she fired back, stripping off her clothes and jumping in the lake.

When he heard the splash, he turned to find the queen poking her head out of the water, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

"There," she said, "happy now?"

"Not quite," Robin smirked, bending down to remove his boots, and Regina averted her eyes when she realized what he was doing, blushing when she felt him close, creating a slight current in the water as he moved towards her.

"This is a lot warmer than the river in Sherwood," he commented, but Regina didn't speak, too scandalized by the idea of them being in the lake in the middle of the night. Naked.

"This is inappropriate," she finally said.

"Oh come on, your majesty, it's just a casual swim, don't get too excited."

"Your sass could cost you your life, you'd be wise to keep it to yourself," she spat, but he remained unaffected, enjoying the water as it moved around him, little rivulets running down his arms when he brought them to the surface.

"You know, you're not as scary as the stories say," he told her, not even pretending to acknowledge her sass and hateful words.

"I can be if I want to," she replied, inching away from him when he ventured a little too close for comfort.

"I don't believe that. In fact, I don't think you're evil at all… just unhappy and in need of someone to talk to," he said, and she was surprised at the sincerity in his voice.

"What makes you think you know me so well?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well for one, I'd be charred to a crisp by now if you were actually as awful as the folk tales make you out to be," he began, giving her a tiny smirk that she found herself returning against her will.

"Besides, I've seen you with Roland," he continued, "you have the touch of a mother, yet I noticed there is no child with you. I'd wager that loss is what ails your soul so much."

Regina was surprised by how much of an insight this man had into her feelings by simply observing her, and she made a mental note to conceal her sadness better from now on, refusing to give him or anyone else the satisfaction of crumbling under the weight of her heartbreak.

"What 'ails my soul' is none of your business, outlaw, and you should learn to leave well enough alone," she said with venom in her voice, and noticing how rattled she was, Robin realized he'd hit a nerve.

"I'm sorry," he told her, and the queen frowned, not expecting him to back down so easily. She also wasn't expecting to feel his warm touch against her hand. It was nothing but a mere brush of his fingers against her skin, but it startled her, made her move hurriedly towards the shore.

"I wish you wouldn't run from me," he said quietly, like he had not meant for her to hear him, but she did.

"I don't run from anyone," she said, tilting her head up in defiance.

"You're running now."

"Am not!"

"As you say, majesty," he relented, not wanting to engage her in yet another argument, "just… know that I'm here, should you ever wish to talk."

"I'll think about it," she finally concedes, powerless under his gaze. Then, making sure his back was turned before she got out of the water, Regina wrapped the thick blanket she had conjured tightly around her frame as she gathered her dress.

Everything goes back to normal afterwards, and they continue to fight like eight year-olds the entire time. She doesn't take him up on his offer to listen until two weeks later, when he finds her hiding behind the rose bushes in the garden, crying as she stares at a charcoal sketch of her son's face, and she can't resist the urge to let out her frustrations, can't find it in herself to fight off the hand he runs through her hair as she cries into his shoulder. She even refuses to push him away when he plants a tender kiss on her forehead, mutters a soft "there, there," against her skin and envelops her in his arms.

She breaks, she breaks horribly, and no one has ever seen the great and terrible Evil Queen at her weakest except this man, this infuriating man, who says nothing, does nothing but listen and offer her comfort and reassurances until days later, when he joins her in the gardens yet again, she succumbs to the attraction that had been building between them and plants her lips on his tenderly. The kiss is slow and uncertain, but it ignites something in her, and when they part, she offers him her first smile in weeks, and it's like the sun has finally peaked out from the clouds, and he decides right then that he wants to bask in her light for as long as she'll let him… and then some more.


	20. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Smutty.  
> Prompt: "You forgot to say the magic word."

There's this thing Regina does when she kisses him, where she bites gently on his lower lip just as she darts her tongue out to lick against his, that drives Robin crazy every single time. She's doing exactly that at the moment, and he can't help but groan into her mouth, grasping her naked body tighter against his. This isn't how tonight was supposed to go, though. Tonight, _he_ was supposed to be in charge, not her. It was _his_ turn to torture _her_ , not the other way around.

Wanting to gain the upper hand again, he flips them both over to land himself on top of her on the bed, and he's pleased to see her eyes roll back and her back arch when she feels him flush and warm against her.

"I call the shots tonight, remember?" he mutters against her jaw before he nips at the skin there and she groans, rolling her hips against his in search of the delicious friction he's purposefully denying her.

"Robin," she whines, hands clawing at his back to bring him closer.

"Yes, your majesty?" he asks, licking a wet trail down her neck and to her breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth and loving the way she cries out in response.

"I need…" she gasps, unable to continue speaking when his teeth graze her other nipple, his fingers trailing down her stomach and playing on her inner thighs, torturously close to where she's aching for him.

"What do you need, Regina?" he asks her, encouraging her to speak, because he loves the rare occasions where she begs him to take her, finds a thrill in the way she pleads with him in breathy moans.

"You. I need… _oh_!" she shouts mid-sentence when his fingers finally thrust into her, and it's delicious and hot and wet, but not enough.

"I need you inside me," she finally rasps, eyes closed as she savors his attentions.

"You forgot to say the magic word," he teases, kissing her again and sucking at her pulse point, amused at the way she huffs in frustration and stops their actions altogether.

"Are you kidding me right now?" she asks with a scowl, her eyes still dark with desire.

"Oh I am dead serious, your majesty," he replies with a smirk.

His fingers are still working her over, alternating between rubbing slow circles on her clit and venturing inside her one by one, and she arches into him again and threads her fingers through his hair, pulling him gently upwards so that her teeth and tongue explore his neck. Feeling her renewed intentions, Robin stops his movements, dropping gentle kisses on her cheeks before he looks at her again, raising an eyebrow at her.

"What?!" she huffs out in frustration.

"You know what I want," he tells her.

"I am a queen, I do not say that word," she says defiantly, but he's not buying her bravado, he knows she's as desperate as he is for more, so he continues his game.

"Oh but you do. In fact you said it just two days ago while I licked whipped cream off you, remember?" he taunts in a husky voice, and Regina finds strength enough to turn their bodies so that she's the one on top now, straddling him and nipping at his jaw.

"Well, don't get too attached, I won't be saying it again," she says in a sultry tone, trying to retain some semblance of control, but they both know she's fooling herself, the way she's rolling her hips against him is more than sufficient proof of that.

"Do you want me, Regina?" he asks her, letting his hands cup her breasts and reveling in the way she gasps when pleasure grips her.

"Yes," she answers, her voice needy.

"Then say it," he tells her.

"I want you," she breathes.

"And the magic word?" he asks again, positioning her so that his tip grazes her slick folds, and he's praying to any and all possible deities that she caves soon, because now that he can feel her wet heat on him, he's not sure he can hold out much longer.

With a jerk of her hips, her answer comes after a sharp intake of breath.

" _Please_ ," she finally begs, and the witty, victorious remark he'd wanted to make dies on his lips when he enters her, succumbing to the feel of her clenching around him and dropping wet kisses on his neck as he sinks into her.

"You know, I had every intention of making you say it more than once," he says, and he did, he really did, but she smells so good and she's moving her hips against him just the way he likes it and doing that bite-and-lick thing again and he can't resist her.

"I told you, one way or another, I always win," she says haughtily before dropping her head against his neck, rolling her hips again when he thrusts into her, and he realizes he hasn't been calling the shots at all, not really, and he probably never will… but as she breathes into his ear how good he feels, Robin finds that he's perfectly okay with that.


	21. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Fluff. Missing Year.  
> Same prompt as previous chapter ("You forgot to say the magic word").

Robin closed the door of her study with a little more force than was entirely necessary, leveling an angry look her way.

"Where is it?" he seethed, not caring that they weren't alone in the room.

"Where's what?" Regina asked from where she sat behind a grand mahogany desk, feigning ignorance.

"You know perfectly well what," he snarled, "I don't like it when people take my things."

"Says the _thief_ ," she replied with amusement, and he slammed a fist against her desk, not caring that he startled a very pregnant Snow.

"Where is my bow? I want it back _now_ ," he barked again, and Regina smiled devilishly.

"You forgot to say the magic word," she taunted, dropping all pretenses.

"I'm not kidding, Regina," he fired back with a glare.

"Neither am I, and it's 'your majesty' to you," she sneered, leaning back in her chair and looking up at him haughtily. Robin knew exactly what she wanted, could see it in the way her breath caught just a little as he stared at her, her breasts heaving from the confines of her corset, but he was so angry that he refused to give her the satisfaction of winning this round.

"Fine, guess I'll just have to make a stop by your jewelry boxes," he threatened, a satisfied smirk showing on his face.

"You wouldn't _dare_ ," she replied with an angry tone, but he could see the hint of apprehension in her eyes and knew he'd done his job. Robin shrugged and turned without a word, striding out of the room and leaving Regina to stare after him in outrage.

"The nerve of that man!" she exclaimed, and Snow merely gave her a knowing smile.

"Go apologize," she told her, and Regina raised an eyebrow at her.

"Me? Apologize to _him_? Why?!"

"We both know you did take his bow, now go give it back and apologize, I'm tired of watching you two fight all the time," Snow continued, her hand resting on her growing belly. Regina huffed, knowing it was best not to upset a pregnant woman.

"Fine!" she finally said, leaving the room and going after Robin.

She found him a few minutes later, pacing one of the balconies on the other side of the castle, the side no one ever visited because it held nothing of importance. With a twist of her wrist, his bow appeared in a puff of purple smoke, leaning against the wall in front of him. Startled, he turned to find her walking towards him, her face set in an expression that would make anyone think she was bored by all this, but he knew better.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" he told her when she reached him. She said nothing, merely grasping the back of his head and pulling him to her, their mouths crashing together.

It had been like this for weeks now. They would fight, throw hateful comments and pull annoying pranks, and then they'd be losing themselves in each other. It seemed they couldn't resist it, the sexual pull they had on one another, and after several encounters, they simply refused to care about the implications of such uninhibited attraction.

Regina needed a distraction from her pain, and Robin needed _her_. It was inappropriate, immoral even, but it was bliss and oblivion and pleasure and it worked, so when he kicked his bow out of the way and slammed her against the wall, Regina gave no protest, merely whimpering as she clawed at his chest, removing his shirt as fast as she could, needing to feel the warmth of his skin.

"Bloody corsets!" he cursed as he tried to remove her clothes, hating that there were so many intricate layers of fabric on her. She smirked at him, waving her hand in the air again and appearing suddenly naked before him, her hair loose and wild around her, and there was a darkness in his eyes, a predatory quality to his stance as he stared at her, that made Regina rub her thighs together in anticipation. Stretching out her arms again, she forced his body back to hers, her breath hitching when her bare skin met the cold wall behind her.

He was roaming his hands all over her now, mouth nipping and sucking at her neck, and she gasped when his fingers slid into her, circling lazily, exploring her.

"Robin," she moaned in his ear, and his lips left her neck to crash against hers again, sucking at her tongue as it ventured inside his mouth. He loved hearing her say his name. Her ways of addressing him in public never strayed from a disdainful utterance of 'thief' or 'outlaw', but when they were alone, when they were like this, his name would fall from her lips in that throaty, sexy voice of hers, and it was always his undoing.

Suddenly, he was naked too, her magic having done its job yet again and stripping him of the rest of his clothes. She moaned again as she grasped him, hot and hard and ready as her hand glided up and down his shaft, her thumb spreading the bead of moisture at his tip.

"Tell me what you want," he said against her lips, his fingers picking up the pace inside her, enough to drive her crazy but not bring her over the edge just yet. She gasped into his mouth, loving the way his fingers kept a steady rhythm against her clit while his other hand tangled in her hair and pulled. She moved her hands away from him and wrapped her legs around his waist, boosting herself up against the wall until she was positioned a couple of inches above him, grinding herself against his erection, his mouth now finding its way to her breasts.

"Tell me," he growled again, biting on a nipple hard enough to make her scream. He loved how uninhibited she was when they were like this, how the thrill of being caught spurred her on and made her even louder.

"You," she panted as he placed himself at her entrance, his tip sinking into her slowly. Regina's head dropped back against the wall, allowing Robin's tongue to trail up her neck as she spoke, "I want you."

He grinned in satisfaction, knowing she was worked up enough and would not take kindly to him stopping his attentions anytime soon, which is exactly why he did stop. She opened her eyes in annoyance.

"What the hell is your problem?" she fired at him, and he chuckled as he looked up at her, his eyes full of mischief.

"You forgot to say the magic word," he threw her earlier taunt back at her, and she growled at him, raking her nails down his chest, his abs.

"Is that so?" she teased, bringing her hand back down and touching him again, reveling in the little whimpers that left his mouth as she applied more pressure, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. When she rolled her hips, making him finally enter her in one smooth stroke, she knew she had him, and the hard, erratic thrusts that followed only served to prove her right.

He never did get her to say 'please', too wrapped up in her to even bother trying to pretend he could win, and he was fine with it, because as long as he could feel her move against him, as long as she kept dragging her tongue up his neck, plunging it into his mouth and tasting him, as long as he could have her this way, he didn't care about losing control, didn't care about surrendering the reins of his mind and body and soul to her. He was in too deep and he knew it, knew that this was just a fling, a distraction for her, but he was starting to want more than she offered, and that was the reason for his foul mood, the reason he had barged into her study in the first place.

He told her as much when they finished, after he was spent and breathing heavily into her neck, when her legs had landed softly on the floor and she'd let her head fall into his chest.

"It's not enough anymore," he confessed about their arrangement after admitting out loud that he had feelings for her, and she could do nothing but frown, so he continued speaking before she could stop him.

"Do not be mistaken. I'm addicted to you, and I will take whatever you want to give, but I thought it only fair that you know where I stand. I want more with you, I want everything with you, Regina."

"You don't know what you'd be dealing with, Robin," she told him, "I'm a mess. You can't possibly want that."

"On the contrary, milady, I know exactly who you are, and I've never wanted anyone more, but until you're willing to open your heart to me, I'm perfectly fine with just being here in whatever way you'll have me," he said, unwavering, his eyes strong and determined as they looked into hers.

She sagged against him, her head dropping back down to his chest, his arms limp at his sides while she calmed her breathing.

"In that case, could you just… hold me?" she asked, her voice muffled against his skin, and then she added a hesitant "please?" at the end. It was the first time she'd ever said that word to him, and he reveled in the significance of the gesture.

"Ah! So you _do_ know the magic word," he teased lightly, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly while she cried silently, letting her sadness come out for the briefest of moments while both of them stood naked and hidden in the shadows of this rarely visited side of the castle. He knew it wouldn't last long, that she'd slip back into regal mode and stride off with a harsh remark and a horrid comment, but the fact that she'd finally allowed him to see her while vulnerable, that she'd finally started to let him in, that was something no one would ever take away from him, not even her.

It takes her a curse and a year's worth of stolen memories to finally open up to him, and they remember nothing of their time together when it happens, but it's special and beautiful all the same, because she's everything he could ever want, and he would go to the ends of the earth for her.


	22. Bubbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse.

Robin of Locksley had come to understand that this new world he found himself in had many astonishing things. In the beginning, he'd been surprised at all the wonders that surrounded him, but as time passed, he was proud to say he'd acclimated to life in Storybrooke quite well, getting used to every marvel he'd encountered. That is, until he discovered one particular marvel that took his breath away: bubble baths. More specifically, bubble baths with Regina Mills.

Nothing in all the realms could have prepared him for the sight of this beautiful woman covered up to her shoulders in tufts of thick, white foam that smelled of lavender, skin glowing with the warm light of several candles she'd placed around the tub, and it made his insides burn with the need to touch her.

"Are you just gonna stand there and stare, or are you joining me?" she asked when she gauged his perplexed expression, and it took him only seconds to remove his clothes, carefully climbing in and loving the feel of the hot water as it rippled around him.

The tub was large and wide enough for two people to lie in it comfortably side by side, but Robin refused to put any distance between them, instead settling just behind her and against the walls of the tub so that she could lean into him, her legs encased in his, her back supported by his chest, head resting on the crook of his neck. Slowly so as not to disturb the quiet atmosphere, he massaged her breasts and then wrapped his arms around her under the water, her hands coming to rest above his over her belly button, and they hummed contentedly at the serene closeness, the scent from the bubbles drifting around them.

Robin couldn't remember being happier than he was right here, right now, wrapped around this stunning creature that had captured his very soul with her spark, her confidence, her kisses, and that vulnerability that she'd trusted him enough to reveal. Sighing, he tightened his hold on her and ghosted a finger over her bottom lip as she smiled with her eyes closed, and looking down at her he wondered how the hell he'd gotten lucky enough to share this very moment with her. It wasn't even about sex -though he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to bury himself inside her at every available opportunity-, it was about enjoying this blissful connection between them. It was about enjoying having his _soulmate_ in his arms.

He learned her body with his hands, massaging areas he knew would be tense from years of carrying herself uptight and rigid against the scrutiny of her mother, the king, and countless other people, and he loved the way she melted under his fingertips, the little sighs that escaped her as he continued his exploration of her, his lips on her neck as he placed tiny, loving kisses on the skin she revealed when she moved her hair to the side.

"You are exquisite," he murmured in her ear, and she turned her head to press a kiss to his lips in response, smiling when she pulled away.

"You're not so bad yourself," she winked, "although, there's something missing."

"Is there?" he asked with a frown, but Regina continued to smile, sitting up and moving slightly away from him to scoop a handful of bubbles and dump it on his hair, creating a pointy hat of sorts and laughing lightly at his disgruntled expression.

"Really?" he asked in fake annoyance, and her laughter only got louder when she used both hands to scoop yet more tufts of the foamy substance and turned to face him fully, placing the thick suds on his temples, drawing them out in peaks to match the one on the top of his head.

"Do you enjoy making me look like a court jester, your majesty?" he chided, but gave up trying to sound stern when she dropped her head against his chest and giggled.

"I actually think it looks quite sexy," she challenged, kissing his chin.

"Do you, now?"

"Definitely," she replied, though she was trying very hard to contain her laughter, which told Robin she was just playing with him, and he let her. Regina had been so closed off to the world, lashing out to anyone who dared venture too close to her heart, that he found it incredibly satisfying to see her in these rare moments, when she allowed herself to be light and free and uninhibited. It made her look younger and happier than he'd ever seen her, and it thrilled him to the point where he'd promised himself long ago that he would do anything to help her retain that innocence, that freedom she'd only just found again after it had been robbed from her.

Biting his lip, he bent forward and kissed her, taking advantage of her closed eyes to grab at the bubbles that surrounded them, covering her left cheek in them as he pulled back, and her eyes widened in mock outrage.

"You did not just do that," she whispered.

"Oh, but I did," he replied, smirking at her.

Regina narrowed her eyes and unceremoniously smacked at the bubbles, sending them everywhere, some of them landing on his face. His retaliation came in the form of a wave that he created by pushing the water forward with his hands, drenching her hair and covering her in the foam, and they laughed at each other as they kept splashing and thrashing in the water, until Regina was breathless and curled up against Robin's chest, his arms low on her back as she sat on his lap and they kissed languidly.

"As much as I love you, the taste of soap is not altogether pleasant," he said against her lips, pecking her cheek before he stood up, pulled out the stopper of the tub and extended his hand to her.

They spent the next few minutes in a naked embrace, bodies lolling back and forth as they enjoyed each other's warmth while the water drained from the tub. Once it was mostly gone, Robin let go of her so she could blow out what few candles remained lit, enjoying the view of her as she bent down towards the edge of the tub. They turned the shower on and stepped under it, letting the hot water wash the remnants of the bubbles from their bodies, and Robin then felt the urge to engage in one of his favorite activities.

"May I?" he asked, grabbing the shampoo bottle and looking at her. Regina smiled sweetly, nodding her permission and turning around so he could wash her hair.

The scent of something sweet and vanilla reached their nostrils as he poured the shampoo on his hand, massaging it into her head softly, eliciting little moans from her that stirred every nerve in him. Slowly, he rinsed the suds away, placing a kiss on her shoulder when he was done, and they took the time to caress and wash each other's bodies under the spray, until the relaxing smells and soothing motions had them smiling stupidly at each other.

When the water was off, Robin grabbed a towel from the hook on the wall and wrapped it around Regina's body, rubbing over it in several places while he dried her off, and she hummed in appreciation, letting him kiss a path down her spine and back up before she turned in his arms with a sleepy grin on her face. Bringing his lips to hers again, Robin sighed into her mouth, the taste of her sweet and warm and delicious now that the soap was gone.

He dried himself off quickly while she watched him, her eyes raking over his form appreciatively. He loved when she looked at him like that, like she couldn't get enough of him, because he felt the same way with her.

"What now, milady?" he asked her when they'd reached the bedroom, her towel wrapped around her body, his around his waist.

"How about a nap?"

"Perfect," he replied, moving to the dresser to pull out pajamas for them both, but she put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"No clothes allowed," she said, smiling and looking up at him through her eyelashes, "I want to have my way with you when we wake up."

"Even better," Robin told her, walking back towards the bed and lifting the covers. Regina dropped her towel and climbed into the fresh sheets, sighing in satisfaction when he put his arms around her as he joined her. She was relaxed and drowsy and absolutely beautiful, and he murmured words of love and devotion into her hair while she did the same against the skin of his chest.

Regina dozed off in his arms, and he couldn't help but smile. Because despite the trials they'd endured and the heartbreak they'd suffered, here in her bed, with her hair splayed out over him, her breath upon his skin and her heartbeat lulling him to sleep, he knew for sure that there was no place else he'd rather be.


	23. Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Season 3.  
> Prompt: Robin tries sleeping with Marian to save his marriage but it doesn't work.

She was writhing, gasping against him in pleasure, moving her hips the way she knew he liked, teeth grazing his chin as he moved into her. Nothing, he felt nothing.

He'd wanted to try, wanted to reclaim that bond he'd once had with her, hoping that it would restore some semblance of normalcy to his heart, that it would remind him of the love he'd felt for her and how happy they'd been together before she was ripped from him, but all tonight had done was prove to him that he had changed, that his heart no longer belonged to the long-haired woman breathing out his name as she moved on top of him.

Marian was beautiful, an enticing creature of soft curves and full lips that he'd once loved to nibble and kiss at every available opportunity, but there was none of that fire now, no passion, nothing. Sure, the act in itself was physically pleasant, as sex usually was, but it felt automatic, like his body was merely responding to stimulation and not really enjoying the attentions that his wife was giving him, and try as he might to convince himself that it was because he was tired, that he was just too spent from his day of searching for Elsa with Emma and David, that he just needed some sleep, Robin knew that the real reason behind this strange lull in his sexual enjoyment was that he was making love to the wrong woman.

A loud moan from Marian told him she had reached her release, and he pulled out of her and made his way to the bathroom, too ashamed to look her in the eye.

The next morning, they talked. She cried, asking over and over again for him to give it another try, for him to at least give them some time to adjust to being in each other's lives again, but he'd been shaking his head even before she uttered such proposition.

It'd been a hurtful evening, and he felt like a coward for making the mother of his child so sad, but there was no choice, there never had been. He confirmed that when he showed up at Regina's that very same night, knocking on her door, desperate for a glimpse of her and flinching when she'd made a harsh comment, telling him to go home to his wife.

"I have no wife," he answered, and that made her stop moving the door she'd intended to close in his face.

"Yes, you do, I met her, she called me a monster in front of everyone, remember?" she spat, and he frowned, looking down for a moment before he took the two steps necessary to reach her and look deep into her eyes, wanting to make absolutely sure she understood what he was about to say.

"Marian and I are no longer together. Our marriage here is a charade, we're both very different people now, and I don't love her."

Regina looked down, afraid to believe him, scared to death of embracing his words, but then he cupped her face in his hand, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone, getting her to look back up at him as tears gathered in her eyes.

"I love _you_ , Regina," he confessed, pouring every single ounce of the feeling into his declaration so that there was no room for her to doubt it. Her gasp was a sharp one, her hand flying to circle around his wrist by her face, her lips trembling as she tried to find a way to respond. He knew she needed reassurance, so he said it again, leaning closer.

"I love you. I am completely, madly in love with you, and I don't ever want to let you go."

That did it, and there was an intake of breath that Robin wasn't sure whose it was, but then it didn't matter because she was kissing him, her lips engulfing his in urgent, frenzied sucks and nibbles that had him groaning and rocking against her. There it was, that fire he'd missed so much, the slow burn that scorched him and made him feel alive. It had never been this intense with Marian, even when they'd been happy together, he'd never felt this pull, this crackling energy that made him want more and more of Regina both physically and emotionally, the simultaneous waves of intense pleasure and love never stopping their course through his body.

Her hands grasped at his sides, fisting in his jacket as she walked backwards into the house, Robin using his foot to close the door behind him, his lips never leaving hers, tongue darting out to deepen the kiss.

"Gods, I've missed you," he rasped into her mouth, moaning at the taste of her. She said nothing, but the way her nails raked against his skin under his shirt was enough for him to know she'd missed him too.

They ended up on the couch, too wrapped up in each other to make it all the way upstairs and to the bed, but he didn't mind. The sight of her, naked and panting beneath him while his fingers explored her, ventured into her slick folds while his tongue blazed a trail from her nipples to her jaw, it was like nothing else he'd ever seen. He loved this woman, desired her above anything and anyone else, and he would never want another in the same way, would never feel this toe-curling heat with anyone but her. Regina was his soul mate, and pixie dust did not lie.

After, when they were both spent and cozy in each other's arms, Robin sighed with relief. He hadn't realized how anxious he was, how out of place he'd felt these last few days, but now that he was holding her, his tension had melted away, giving room for more pleasant emotions to emerge. Her head was resting on his chest, his arm around her, fingers playing with her hair while his other hand held hers on top of his stomach, and the happy sigh that left her lips as he scratched lightly at her scalp had him tilting his head down so he could kiss her, trading lazy presses of his lips with hers, languidly running his tongue against hers and humming at the sensation.

"How is she?" Regina asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," he murmured, drawing her closer and placing a kiss on her forehead, "she was very distraught at first, but she conceded that there was no point in trying anymore if I didn't love her."

"I'm sorry," she whispered against the skin of his chest, "I know you didn't want her to get hurt."

"She would've been worse off if we stayed together. It wasn't fair to either of us, or to you."

To that, Regina said nothing, cuddling into him and playing with his fingers on his stomach, drawing his hand up to hers to kiss his knuckles, but he could feel the tension in her, knew there was something she wanted to ask but couldn't bring herself to do it.

"What is it?" he prodded, not wanting any secrets between them.

"Nothing, it's none of my business, and you're here now, so it doesn't matter," she said, brushing it off and burying her head into the crook of his neck, but he wasn't letting her get away that easily. Squeezing her against him for a moment, he turned them both to their sides, facing each other, and propped his head on his elbow, draping his other arm around her waist, their noses bumping together softly in the crammed space as he whispered "tell me, please," and she sighed against his lips, gearing herself up to voice her concerns.

"Did you… do this," she began, gesturing to their current state, "with her?"

Robin could've lied, could have spared her the pain he knew the truth would cause, but that wasn't who they were. Their relationship had been based on honesty since day one, sometimes to the point of being brutal, but it was the way they worked, and he'd never do anything to jeopardize their dynamic, to lose the trust she'd so fearfully placed in him.

"Yes," he told her, and flinched at the flicker of pain he saw in her eyes as he did. He drew her into his arms again, and though her body was rigid against him, she made no move to extricate herself from his hold, which he took as a good sign.

"I'm sorry," he said in her ear, and she shook her head slightly.

"She was your wife, it was only natural that you'd… I shouldn't be so upset about this," she said, a look of unmeasured anger crossing her face before she schooled it into a neutral expression.

"It's alright to be mad, I would be too, if you'd slept with someone else in my absence," he told her, the mere thought of Regina gasping in pleasure at another man's touch making him tense.

"Was she… I mean… did you like it?" she asked nervously, and he chuckled against her hair. Wrong move.

"Is this _funny_ to you?" she asked indignantly, moving away from him now and looking at him in outrage.

"No! I just—" she cut him off before he could make his excuses.

"Do you have any idea how miserable I was? How close I was to slipping back into my evil ways just so I could have _something_ tethering me to this world? And now you come into my house, into my bed—"

"Technically, it's your couch," he interjected, and she glared at him.

"If this is all a game to you, you might as well leave," she said, moving away and turning so that her back was to him, and when he saw the way her shoulders were shaking, he felt awful. He hadn't meant to make light of the situation, he'd only been amused at her question because of how ridiculous it was, because _of course_ he hadn't liked having sex with Marian, that's exactlywhat had made him realize he no longer belonged with her.

"Regina," he breathed, placing kisses on her back, his hand finding her waist under the throw blanket he'd draped over them earlier, "please look at me," he begged, and the tone of his voice had her turning around to face him again. Her eyes were dry, but he could see how hard she was straining to contain the tears, so he kissed the tip of her nose and smiled at her.

"I tried to make love to her… once," he admitted, and her expression tightened at his words, but he pushed on, eyes focused on his hand now playing with the ends of her hair, and he was enthralled by the movement.

"I… I wanted to see if… if maybe by connecting physically, I could find a way to connect emotionally. It didn't work. I found no joy in it, no pleasure, it was like I was performing because it was expected of me, not because I wanted to be with her," he said, shifting his gaze to look into her eyes before he continued, "I felt nothing. Here was the mother of my child, alive and naked in my arms after I spent years convincing myself that would never happen again, and I felt nothing. There's nothing left in me of the man that loved and desired Marian. There's no room for her in me anymore. You, Regina, you've taken up residence in my entire being, and I could never even entertain the possibility of someone else. I'm yours."

She'd lost the fight against her emotions now, letting the tears roll freely down her cheeks, but he could see the tiniest hint of a grin and moved closer to kiss it.

"I'm sorry it had to come to that for me to see how much I love you, and I'm so sorry I upset you, but know that no one has or ever will take your place in my heart."

Her smile was huge and bright now, and it did things to him, set butterflies aflutter in his belly. Moving a hand to the side of her neck, he brought their lips together, laying a series of light pecks there before he whispered another "I love you" and lingered a hair's breadth from her.

"I love you, too," she finally said. It was the first time he'd ever heard those words from her, and it rocked him, ignited a fire in him that had him crashing his mouth down to hers again, desperate this time, teeth grazing her bottom lip, his tongue soothing the sting of the bite as his hand traveled upwards from her waist to her breasts, and as they sank into each other, he knew there would never be anything else like this, because he'd always been hers, and now, now she was his, too.


	24. Forget the Code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse.  
> Prompt: Henry and Roland involved in a parent trap kind of situation. Include them talking with walkie talkies.

Night had fallen over Storybrooke, its characteristic chill in the air sending inhabitants scrambling to their heating devices and fireplaces. Everyone was rushing to the warmth of home, children bundled up in coats and scarves, hurried along by parents who walked briskly down the rain-sleeked streets. But there was one boy who wasn't following the rush of the crowd, one boy who currently hid in the bushes by the park, holding a magical box with a tiny button that, if pressed, allowed him to talk to the chief of the operation he was currently taking part in.

"Cobra to Furry Monkey, I am in position, over," the mastermind's voice came through the speaker, and Roland made sure to press the button firmly, like Henry had taught him, before he spoke into the device.

"I'm hiding in the bushes like you said, Henry."

"Roland, I've told you, while we're doing this you have to call me Cobra, it's part of the mission," Henry whined over the walkie-talkie, and Roland apologized immediately, adopting an official tone to his voice when he spoke again.

"Sorry, Cobra, sir. I'm waiting for… for…" he trailed off.

"Outlaw and Queen," Henry supplied.

"Yes, papa and Regina!" he exclaimed.

"Roland, the whole point of using code names is so that no one finds out about our plan, you can't say their real names out loud," Henry explained again.

"Right, sorry," the little boy apologized again, and then his eyes widened when he spotted Regina walking down the street in his direction, though she hadn't yet noticed him there.

"The queen is here," he said into the walkie-talkie, and shoved it haphazardly in the pocket of his jeans when Henry gave the command to start the mission.

Regina was rubbing her hands together against the cold, shaking her head slightly to push her hair away from her face, when she saw something move in the bushes ahead of her. She paused, fireball already forming in her hand as she addressed whatever was hiding there.

"Show yourself and I'll let you live," she spat, not in the mood for games. Her face softened and the fireball extinguished itself when Roland stumbled out of his hiding place, a shy pout on his lips as he stared up at her with his big brown eyes.

"Roland? Sweetie what are you doing out here all by yourself?" she asked him, crouching down in front of him and cupping his tiny face in her hands.

"I was looking for you," he said, all innocence and affection as he hugged her.

"Why, what's wrong?"

"I was walking in the woods with Friar Tuck and I got lost, ended up here, and papa once told me you knew Storybook better than anyone so I wanted to find you."

"It's Storybrooke, and I do. Come on, let's get you to the Sheriff's station, your father is probably worried," she said, standing up and offering him her hand, but he hesitated, looking up at her again.

"There's no one there, papa went out to the forest with Emma and David and the Merry Men, and mama is working with Granny."

"Then let me take you to your mother."

"I don't want to go with her, I want to go with you," he said, putting on the charm as he stared up at her. Regina sighed, she knew Roland was having trouble adapting to having a mother now, and that he'd ran away from his home more than once when he was left alone with her. Now that Robin and Marian were no longer together, it was even more difficult to get the boy to stay with her for more than a half hour, and Regina knew that if she left him at Granny's with her, he'd only run out again.

"Fine, let's go to my house, I'll make you hot cocoa and we can have your father pick you up, okay?" she offered, and Roland finally took her hand.

"Can we go to the camp first? I want to get my monkey," he asked, stopping her in her tracks. She gave him a long breath in answer, but nodded her head and gifted him with a small smile, detouring towards the woods where the Merry Men had set up their tents.

The camp was deserted when they got there, as Henry and Roland knew it would be. They'd told Little John that someone had seen the Snow Queen somewhere in the outskirts of town, and they'd immediately gone to check it out. The Queen was after Bo Peep's staff, as she wanted to find Anna before the others and use her against Elsa, so because that staff was their most prized weapon at the moment, they knew Robin would have stayed behind at the camp guarding it, in case the Snow Queen came looking for it while the Merry Men were away.

Roland suddenly let go of Regina's hand, running away from her and towards one of the tents.

"Roland wait!" she shouted after him, treading through the wet forest floor as fast as she could to catch up with him, but the boy was faster, reaching the tent in no time and hiding behind it, pulling out his walkie-talkie and calling for Henry.

"Cobra to Furry Monkey, are you at Little John's tent yet? Did everything go as planned? Over," the older boy asked in a hurried whisper, and Roland nodded, then remembered Henry couldn't see him and spoke breathlessly into the device.

"Yeah I'm here! She's here, too, and papa's in the big tent, where are you, Cobra?"

"I'm coming over to you now, wait there, we'll guide mom to the tent together," Henry said, and appeared next to Roland no more than five minutes later.

"Good job, buddy," he told the younger boy, high-fiving him silently where they hid behind Little John's tent. They could see Regina a little ways away, looking around for Roland, so Henry grabbed a pine cone from the floor and threw it in the direction of the big tent, where they knew Robin would be.

Regina heard something to her left, and instantly walked there, smiling to herself at Roland's antics. He was adorable, but he was most certainly a handful sometimes.

"Roland," she called as she opened a flap in the tent and walked in, "I can't run all around these woods in these shoes, please just stay…" she trailed off when she saw it was Robin and not his son who was inside the tent.

"…still. I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd be here," she apologized nervously, making to get out of the tent, but Robin stopped her.

"Were you calling for Roland? I thought he was with his mother."

"I found him in the park, he said he was with Tuck and got lost walking through the woods, and he asked me to come with him to get his stuffed monkey, I didn't know he was supposed to be with Marian, I'm sorry, I—," she rambled, but he stopped her, raising a hand in front of him.

"It's alright, it seems we both got played," he smiled in reassurance, moving to take her hand, but thinking better of it when he saw the way her frazzled nerves showed on her face.

"I… I should go," she said, moving away from him.

"No, wait!" he said, and then he did grab her hand, and Henry and Roland smiled giddily from where they were hiding outside, listening to their conversation and watching the shadows of their parents move as the light from the nearby fire cast them against the walls of the tent.

"Robin," she began, ready to bolt.

"No, listen to me, Marian and I, it wasn't love, not this time, that's why we ended our marriage, we both knew I was kidding myself, I don't love her."

"Robin, stop," she admonished.

"I love you, Regina," he said, seizing his chance, and tears welled up in her eyes instantly.

"What did it take?" she asked him, and he sensed anger lacing her tone.

"I don't follow…"

"Come on, Roland, let's give them some time alone," Henry quietly told the little boy outside the tent, sensing the direction of the conversation. He led him away to the trees, where they sat and watched the shadows of their parents continue to move in the tent, Regina walking frantically in the enclosed space, arms crossed.

* * *

 

"What did it take for you to realize you loved me?" she asked, "was it when you kissed her? When you chose your ridiculous vow over being happy with me? When you slept with her?" she barked, frustration rolling out of her in waves.

"Regina," he tried to explain, but she didn't let him.

"No, I am not some toy you can just pick and drop whenever you please, I've had enough of being someone's plaything to last me a lifetime," she told him, every bit the regal, strong woman he had come to love and respect.

Slowly, he walked towards her, stretching out his hand and letting his fingers brush her cheek when she didn't turn away, but the tears in her eyes were like knives through his soul.

"I made a mistake," he admitted, "and I'm so sorry for the pain I caused you."

"Sorry doesn't cut it. You made a choice, you can't just go back on that."

"I'm not going back on anything, my heart has always chosen you, even when my messed up mind didn't."

"Yes, well, you had a code, remember? A code you told me you couldn't live without. Your heart's choice wasn't enough before, why should that change now?" her voice was rising in her desperation, and Robin stopped it the only way he knew how, by planting his lips firmly on hers, his hands cupping her face, thumbs running back and forth over her cheekbones as his mouth moved hotly against hers for a few delicious seconds when she finally responded, pulling apart to speak into the space between them, his forehead against hers.

"Because if living by that code means I don't get to touch you, kiss you, hold you in my arms every waking moment, then I don't want to live by that code anymore," he said fervently, "but I can't prove that to you unless you let me!"

"Why would I let you?! So you can cast me aside next time your precious honor is tested?!"

"Don't you dare pretend like this was easy for me," he said, his own anger bubbling now.

"Oh yes, I can imagine how hard it must have been to have to go back to your happy family," she spat.

"You've no idea how frustrating it was, having my wife back and not feeling even an ounce of the love I used to feel for her, to have her there in my arms and be consumed by thoughts of _you_."

"You think it was any easier on me? Seeing you with her, walking down the street holding Roland like no time had gone by and you had always been together, like we meant nothing?!"

"That is exactly where you're wrong, you stubborn woman, you meant _everything_!"

"As proven by the fact that you chose _her_ ," she said sarcastically, and Robin gave an exasperated growl, moving past her and making for the entrance of the tent.

"Don't you walk away from me!" she yelled after him, and he turned to look at her, his eyes flaring with unmeasured heat.

"You've clearly made up your mind about me, why should I stay?!" he barked at her, and Regina could see it, could see him walking away and never coming back, and suddenly she didn't want to fight anymore, suddenly she was tired of putting up that wall between them, of pushing him away and hurting him so that he wouldn't hurt her first, so instead of arguing further, she told him the truth.

"Because I love you, you idiot!" she snapped, and finally let the tears fall when he all but ran back to her, her shoulders sagging as she leaned into him, crying into his chest when he dropped his hands from her face and wrapped his arms around her.

"I've got you, I've got you now," he murmured against her hair, planting kisses there while she let her anguish leak out of her in hot, salty tears.

* * *

 

From outside, Roland and Henry watched, smiling when they saw that the shadows of their parents were holding each other.

"I think it worked," Roland said excitedly, "let's go!"

"Wait," Henry warned, watching intently, "let's give them some more time, just in case."

"But they're hugging!"

"Just wait a little while longer, Roland, we don't want the mission to fail, right?" Henry asked, and Roland shook his head solemnly.

"No, Cobra," he said, and Henry chuckled.

"We're not using the walkies, you can call me Henry now."

"Okay," Roland said, still not grasping the need for different names, but then he turned back to the shadows cast against the tent and watched as the figures moved again.

* * *

 

Regina drew away from Robin, tilting her head up to look at him and giving him a small smile.

"So… you're in love with me, huh?" she asked, her frustration ebbing away as she let herself believe his words at last.

"Madly so," he replied with an easy grin, tightening his hold on her and bringing his lips down to hers.

"You do realize this was all Roland's doing, right?" she asked when they parted, and Robin frowned at her.

"Really? You think so?"

"Don't you think it's a bit odd that a little boy who was raised by forest-dwelling thieves gets lost in the woods, then conveniently finds me and leads me to where you are? He definitely planned it," she laughed into his chest, realizing it now.

"He can't have come up with all this on his own," Robin ventured, and it dawned on Regina.

"Henry," she breathed.

"Yes, I'm quite sure he had a hand in this as well."

"The little scoundrels," she said, though she couldn't bring herself to be mad at them, not for this.

"Shall we go outside and find them? Tell them their plan worked?" he asked, pecking her lips before smiling at her.

"Not just yet," she said, her hands rubbing up and down his chest before fisting on the lapels of his green jacket, "let's stay here for a moment."

Robin nodded his agreement, his chin bumping slightly against her forehead before he pulled back and took a few seconds to just look at her.

"What?" she asked, nervous under his intense gaze.

"I've missed you so much," he rasped, and she could feel his shoulders shaking with the relief he felt at having her back in his arms again, could sense the way his entire being relaxed when she finally embraced him, arching her body so that she was flush against him and running her fingers through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp.

"I've missed you, too," she whispered, and then he was kissing her again, his tongue tasting her for the first time in weeks, and the appreciative moan that left his mouth vibrated against her own, making her gasp for breath as she brought him ever closer, the kiss intensifying, the heat building. His hands roamed her body, cupping her rear, moving back up, then down again to her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh, as if he was terrified of letting her go ever again.

"So… are we okay?" he asked her tentatively, and she grinned at him, biting her bottom lip before she spoke.

"We're fine, just… don't let that code of yours drag you away from me again," she said, her voice shaky, and he could see it, the damage he'd done, the hesitation he'd planted in her heart with his previous actions, and so he gave her the only answer he knew would reassure her.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he whispered before catching her lips again.


	25. No More Armor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse.  
> Prompt: Casual, no-heels Regina and her height difference with Robin.

There are many, many things about Regina that Robin loves, but it isn't until he sees her walking towards him in the alley close to Granny's diner that he decides on his favorite one.

Ever since he'd met her, he'd noticed how she carried herself, the way she projected a certain image in order to keep people at bay. Back in the Enchanted Forest, she'd shroud herself in expensive gowns with rich fabrics and intricate patterns, heavy make-up and over-the-top twists and ornaments in her hair, gigantic jewels and lush coats completing the effect. Here in Storybrooke, it was all sleek dresses in dark, bold colors, suits and pantyhose and elegant jewelry to accent her wealth and power, every bit the mayor and every bit the queen. While her wardrobes for each land were vastly different, they both served the same purpose: armor. Robin had long learned that the way Regina dressed, asserting her superiority, creating that intimidating façade, was her way of protecting herself, of keeping her feelings locked away, her way of avoiding getting hurt, as she had been so many times before.

Now, however, there is something new about her, something he absolutely adores, and that is her height. She'd worn ridiculously high heels both as queen and as mayor, but now she is neither, now she's just _Regina_ , and so her wardrobe has changed again, from the extravagant dresses and designer suits to comfortable, thin shirts and open vests, loose-fitted slacks and little make up, no jewels and, more importantly, no heels. The lack of that despondent image she used to project doesn't tarnish her or diminish the strength with which she carries herself, not at all, but the fact that she feels free enough to not need the armor her clothes provide her, to not need to tower over everyone, it makes something stir in Robin's heart.

She reaches him in a few short minutes, frowning at the pensive look on his face and asking him if something is wrong. Robin shakes his head, snaking his arms around her and bringing her flush against him, loving the way she fits perfectly under his chin now that she's wearing flats, allowing him to bury his nose in the top of her head and take in the sweet, delicious scent of her hair.

"Have I mentioned how much I love the fact that you no longer wear heels?" he asks her, looking down at her and smiling.

"Once or twice," she chuckles when she looks up at him, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. He indulges her for a few seconds, before leaning his head down to her, forcing her to lay her feet flat against the pavement again. His arms tighten around her, his lips insistent and warm, and Regina moans at the sensations coursing through her.

"Not that I'm complaining, I mean I'm certainly a lot more comfortable, but I don't know why you like it so much. I'm too short for you without them," she smirks when they part, and he leans his forehead against hers for a moment before he speaks into the space between them.

"Ah, you see, there are many perks to the height difference between us, your majesty."

"Are there, now?" she asks cheekily.

"Why, yes," he begins, planting a kiss on her forehead, "for starters, you look utterly endearing, and I feel like I could carry you around in my pocket if I wanted to," he says, bopping her nose with his finger before he kisses her warm mouth again, "I also love that I can put my arm around your shoulders and tuck you against me when we walk," he adds against her lips, "and that you can rest your head against my chest when we're standing on the sidewalk and listen to the way my heart stutters when I hold you."

At his lovely words, Regina raises her head and kisses him, soft and slow, her tongue savoring his languidly before they part again.

"And I love that you have to tilt your head up and I have to lean down so we can kiss, and that by just turning my head I can get a whiff of that delicious vanilla smell in your hair that drives me crazy… shall I go on?" he asks, smirking at her.

"You've said enough," she replies with amusement dancing in her eyes, "now come back down here and kiss me," she teases, and Robin happily obliges, bringing his lips down to hers again and tasting her, sucking at her bottom lip and grazing it with his teeth, knowing what it does to her. Sure enough, he feels that needy little moan he loves so much come out of her mouth and into his, the sound igniting his whole body.

"Gods, I love it when you do that," he whispers against her mouth, and she bites his lip before bringing her hands down from his chest and hooking her wrists around his waist. His hands then squeeze her hips before they move up and dive into her hair.

"Robin," she says between kisses, "we need to— _mmm_ … we really need to stop."

"No, we really don't," he says, moving his head further down to her neck, sucking at her pulse point.

"We're right outside Granny's," she all but whimpers, unable to keep her voice steady when he's lavishing the skin of her neck with his tongue, "someone's bound to see us."

"Let them see," he rasps, pulling a little on her hair as his fingers continue to tangle themselves in it.

While Robin was sure about his decision to end his marriage, he'd felt bad about Marian's heartbreak and had wanted to ease her pain, so he and Regina had agreed to keep their reconciliation a secret for a while, in order to give Marian time to heal before she had to see them together. But it's been quite a while already, and he's tired of sneaking around. The fact of the matter is that he's chosen Regina, wants to spend the rest of his life with her if she'll have him, and he is not going to hide that any longer.

"Are you sure?" she asks in a tentative whisper, reacting to what he'd said, "I know you wanted to wait for Marian to feel better about it all before we…" she trailed off. Robin nods, looking down into her eyes as she raises her face up to his.

"I'm completely sure. It's been over a month, and I love you," he says as he kisses the tip of her nose, " _you_ are my happiness, Regina, nothing else matters."

She gives him a watery smile, standing on her tiptoes again so she can kiss him, appreciating the new angle in the kiss when he tilts his head to the side and presses his mouth more firmly against hers, sucking gently at her bottom lip. When they part, all she gives him is a satisfied little hum, but Robin lives for that sound, and he beams at her before gesturing to the diner.

"Shall we, milady?" he asks, then falls into step with her when she begins to move.

Regina grins when he puts his arm around her shoulders and brings her close so she can wrap hers around his waist. They walk like that to the main door at Granny's, holding each other, her head close to his chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns where they touch the other's body, his lips planting kisses on her temple. It's silly and cozy and perfect, and he's absolutely right, she realizes, maybe ditching the heels was a good idea, after all.


	26. Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Dimples Queen.  
> Prompt: After Marian's return, Roland uses a walkie talkie to tell Regina he misses her.

The loud bang of the door as it slammed behind him startled him for a moment, he hadn't realized he was so strong, and for a second he felt guilty, because he knew that what he had done was not something good little boys did. But he didn't _want_ to be a good little boy right now, he was too angry for that.

He was supposed to see Regina three days ago, she was going to show him another of the moving pictures on the big magical box in her living room. This one, she'd told him, was about a nanny that jumped around on chimneys and took the kids she cared for to other worlds with her and sang songs and danced with penguins. He'd been so excited about it, packing a bag with his stuffed monkey and a scarf and some books he wanted to show Henry, and then his papa had come into the room and told him he wouldn't be seeing Regina that night.

He'd asked to see her the next day, and then the next. Papa had stopped responding, walking out of the room whenever Roland mentioned Regina, so he was left with his mama, whose answer to his question was always a kind "not today, honey, maybe tomorrow," that Roland was beginning to realize was a way of making him stop asking.

He couldn't understand why mama kept telling him that it wasn't a good idea. Gina was nice and brave and pretty and she baked cookies with him and read him stories and used magic to make the dragons in Henry's LEGO castles fly around them while they played, she was wonderful. His papa had told him when they moved to this house last week that it would be difficult for mama to get used to living here, to understand that Regina was not the bad queen anymore, and Roland was trying really hard to be a good boy so that mama could like it here, but when he'd overheard her earlier, telling Henry's other mom that Regina was evil and should be punished, he'd gotten angry and behaved badly, knocking over a flower vase from the table and refusing to apologize for his tantrum when his father asked him to, which is what had gotten him sent to his room in the end.

Stomping his feet loudly on the floor several times, Roland huffed and threw his weight on the window seat, staring out of the glass panes at the people milling in and out of Granny's.

A few minutes later, an idea occurred to him, and he called himself silly for not thinking of it before. Getting up and walking back to his drawers, Roland rummaged through the many strange toys Henry had let them pillage from his room until he found what he was looking for. Twisting the little black button at the top of the small blue box, he heard the strange static and heaved a sigh of relief because he'd turned it on correctly, like Henry had taught him. Smiling, he made sure his door was locked and hid under the covers of his bed before whispering loudly against the magical box, the antenna brushing his nose.

"Regina? Regina, are you there?"

* * *

 

Regina walked around the upstairs level of her house in a morose state, turning off lights automatically and closing doors left ajar, so that the wind wouldn't slam them closed while she slept. She was passing by Henry's empty room when she heard a voice.

Her hand immediately stretched out in front of her, a fireball forming on it as she used Henry's door as cover and then quickly opened it, ready to pulverize the intruder. However, there was no one, not even a trace that someone had been there, and it made Regina frown. She was sure she'd heard a voice, she couldn't be imagining things, could she?

And then, as if he'd heard her on the other end, Roland spoke from somewhere under Henry's pillow.

"Gina, please answer," he begged, his voice shaky. Finally, Regina found the walkie-talkie and brought it to her lips, fingers working adeptly at the buttons of the device, as if it hadn't been years since she'd used them with Henry while they did scavenger hunts in the park.

"Roland I'm here, what is it, are you alright? Are you home? Please tell me you're not lost somewhere again," she begged, and Roland laughed into the walkie, his giggling drawing a smile out of her.

"I'm okay, but I did a bad thing," he said, and Regina felt tears spring to her eyes as she listened to his defeated tone, picturing his little pout and downcast eyes in her mind perfectly.

"What did you do?"

"I broke something."

"It was an accident, I'm sure everything will be fine," she said automatically, but Roland was shaking his head, already speaking over her, causing static to break through the walkie.

"Mama wouldn't let me see you, and I got mad, so I threw her pretty vase to the floor and broke it," he told her, and her sharp intake of breath was heard through the device as she gathered her bearings. She'd assumed that Roland missing their date a few days ago was due to Marian not wanting him anywhere near her, but it still hurt to hear it confirmed.

"Honey, you can't act that way. Letting anger get the best of you is not a good thing, and you're a good boy, you're my brave knight, right?" she asked, prompting them both to remember when he'd declared himself as much back in the Enchanted Forest, when Little John had uttered a very distasteful comment –still apprehensive about her back then- and Roland had puffed out his chest and defended her honor.

"Right," Roland said into the walkie then.

"Well, knights can't go around breaking things and treating their mamas badly, now, can they?"

"I guess so."

"You have to apologize to your mother," she said then, her tone firm.

"I don't want to, I'm mad at her."

"Roland, she loves you very much, and your behavior hurt her, you can't hurt your mama like that."

"But she won't let me see you!" he said desperately, the rise in his voice making a sharp, high-pitched sound come through the walkie and straight into her ear, and Regina winced before she spoke again.

"I know, but you just have to be strong. Once she gets used to living here, she might feel better about you coming over and we can spend time together again then, okay?"

"But I don't want to wait, it's not my fault she's angry, I want to see you," he was crying now, she could tell by the slight sniffle that accompanied his words. He was right, she realized, it wasn't his fault the adults were at a loss as to how to handle this situation, he shouldn't have to pay for the choices she or his parents made.

"I know, but for now we have to stay apart for a little while."

"But I miss you," he sobbed quietly into the device, and that was all it took for the tears she'd been trying to hold back to start running down her cheeks in earnest.

"I miss you too, sweetheart. Very much," she said, her voice breaking, "but you know what? Now we have the walkies, we can talk every night before you go to bed. Would you like that?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed, perking up at the idea.

And so it went on for two, three, ten days after that, with Roland softly calling "Gina?" into Henry's walkie-talkie every night after his parents went to bed, telling her about his day, about how much he missed her, and she in turn regaled him with plans of what they would do when they finally got to spend time together again, telling him about places they would go, treats they would bake. She promised him popcorn and movies and to let him pick apples from her tree with her and Henry, told him bedtime stories about princes and dragons and evil queens that found hope again thanks to the help of dashing little boys with dimples, and all the while her heart wept for him.

She missed him, missed the lovely dynamic they had so effortlessly settled into, missed the way she would walk down the street, holding his hand, getting him ice cream while she and Robin smiled at each other like idiots. And then once she allowed herself to remember the boy's father, her pain intensified.

While Roland prattled on about his day at Granny's, Regina could do nothing but think of Robin. Robin, who she would catch fondly staring at her while she played with his son. Robin, who would suddenly lean in and kiss her just because he could, who didn't care that people were staring as he grabbed her hand or held her in public, who would lick away the bead of chocolate ice cream dripping from the corner of her mouth where Roland had excitedly shoved the cone in her face to get her to try it. Robin, who loved her, but couldn't be with her.

As she shook her head to bring herself out of her reverie, Regina noticed that Roland was no longer speaking, the walkie having gone silent minutes ago.

"Roland?" she called, "Roland are you still there?" but no answer, and she smiled tenderly as she realized he'd probably fallen asleep, as he had many times in previous nights.

"Sweet dreams, my knight," she said into the walkie, knowing he wouldn't hear her but wanting to say good night all the same.

The device was quiet for a few seconds, and then she heard static coming through and grinned, thinking he was probably shuffling around in bed and moving the device with him. What she didn't expect was to hear Robin's deep voice greeting her from the other side of the line.

"Hello, Regina."

"Um… hi," she said uncertainly, trying to find words to explain what had been going on the past few nights, but it seemed he already had an inkling, because he was chuckling on the other end.

"I knew he was up to something when he kept asking to go to bed early," he said.

"I'm sorry, I know Marian doesn't want him to be near me and I understand, but he was so sad, I couldn't just not talk to him."

"Regina, it's fine. Truth be told, I'm not crazy about this arrangement, and I'm trying to convince Marian to let him spend some time with you, but she's still being a bit… difficult. Don't worry, though, I won't tell her about this. Roland cares for you and I know you care for him, you shouldn't be deprived of each other's company. If this is the only way you get to be together for now, so be it," he said.

"Thank you," she said with relief, not knowing how else to respond.

The silence stretched between them then, and Regina suddenly felt the urge to run as she imagined his intense gaze, the emotional turmoil that she knew was constantly brewing in those deep blue eyes of his.

"It's getting late, I should go to bed," she attempted, but Robin wasn't ready to let go just yet.

"Wait!" he rasped into the walkie, and Regina couldn't bring herself to shut the thing off, couldn't make herself stay away from him.

"I miss you," he said once he was sure she was still there, and much like when it was Roland who'd said it, tears sprang to her eyes, falling instantly.

"Robin…"

"I'm so sorry," he told her, his voice tight and pained, knowing how much this was hurting her.

"So am I."

"I love you, Regina."

"I love you, too," she uttered in a shaky whisper, bringing her legs up to her stomach where she lay sideways on the bed, listening to his breathing and murmured words of devotion until she fell asleep with tears in her eyes.


	27. Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse.

There's something about the way Regina moves around their kitchen, Robin thinks as he watches her get the ice cream out of the freezer, something graceful and confident and altogether enticing, that makes his breath hitch and his eyes close as the flicker of desire burns through him.

Not that he can do anything about it now, as his young son is with her, demanding to help and giggling when she hoists him into her arms and spins him around. She laughs at his delighted squeals before she sits him on the counter and asks him to carefully pour the chocolate syrup over the ice cream as she scoops it up into the bowls. Her eyes watch Roland as she moves, making sure he's safe and doesn't make a mess of things. She hasn't realized Robin is watching them, has no idea he's been hiding behind the kitchen door for the last ten minutes, looking on as she readies their dessert.

Roland happily announces that he's poured enough syrup, and she smiles and bops his nose with her finger, agreeing with him before she takes him in her arms and puts him down on the floor, but he's not having it, holding on to her neck with both arms and squeezing, laughing when she catches on to his devious actions.

Regina brings him up with her again and their foreheads touch as she whispers something to him. Roland nods, says "I love you, too, Regina," and hugs her tight. Robin smiles, loving how at ease she is, how much she seems to cherish these quiet moments with his son. She has to share Henry with Emma, and now Roland with Marian, but Robin knows she doesn't resent it, knows she treasures every moment she spends with her boys, and it warms his heart to see her like this, makes him daydream of the day they have more kids running around the house, a day he hopes isn't too far away into the future.

"Why don't you go get your father, tell him his ice cream is waiting?" she asks the boy when she finally puts him down after a good cuddle, and Roland scampers off excitedly, only to run right smack into Robin's legs by the kitchen door.

"Papa!" he exclaims as he throws his arms around Robin when he crouches down in front of him, "ice cream is ready!"

"So I heard," Robin says, chuckling at his son's enthusiasm.

"I poured the syrup!" he announces proudly.

"You did?!"

"Yes! Regina let me!"

"That's wonderful, my boy. I can't wait to eat it," Robin tells him, looking up at Regina as he straightens and stretches an arm out towards her, then huffs out a laugh when Roland groans.

"Are you going to get all kissy again?" he asks in annoyance.

"Roland, I just saw you cuddling with Regina. It's my turn now," Robin says as he pulls her flush against him, landing a kiss on her cheek and then another on the tip of her nose, and Roland gives him a sheepish grin before he groans again.

"Okay yeah, but that was _one_ cuddle, just one! You always cuddle her for aaaaaaages, the ice cream is going to melt!"

"Roland, why don't you take your dessert to the living room and pick out a movie for us to watch?" Regina asks then, trying to appease him. It works, and the boy jumps up excitedly to grab his bowl and runs out of the kitchen, Regina's loud "careful!" falling on deaf ears. She sighs before focusing on Robin, and that's when she notices the sparkle in his eyes.

"What?" she asks, smiling shyly at him. He shakes his head, but his smile doesn't falter.

"You're incredible, you know that?" he tells her, and she feels that traitorous blush appear on her cheeks, a reaction she's never had to anyone but him. And then realization hits her.

"You told Roland you saw him cuddling with me, were you spying on us?" she asks, trying –and failing- to sound stern, raising an eyebrow at him, her eyes dancing with mirth.

"I might've been watching from the door," he admits innocently, shrugging with a smile before he closes the space between them, brushing his lips against hers slowly, moaning low in his throat when her teeth graze his bottom lip and her tongue licks to soothe.

"Regina," he murmurs into her mouth, her reply comes in the form of a sexy _hmm_ that she utters against his neck when she tips her head down to suck on the skin there.

"Roland is waiting," he warns, but his voice is breathy and low as his hands thread into her hair.

"I know, don't worry, I won't start anything," she says against his skin.

"I believe you already have, milady," he says, bucking his hips into hers so she can feel his arousal.

"You are insatiable," she tells him when she parts from him, putting some much needed distance between them.

"For you? Always," he says with that cheeky, lopsided grin he knows drives her crazy, and Regina can't resist him and his dimples, so she brings their bodies close again and kisses him once more, his hands coming to grasp her around the waist.

Roland's voice comes from the living room, interrupting them.

"Stop canoodling and come watch Treasure Planet with me!" he tells them, and Regina lets out a few expletives against his shoulder, cursing Emma under her breath for teaching Roland that word. Robin laughs against her forehead, placing a kiss there before he lets her extricate herself from his arms and grab the two bowls of half-melted ice cream still sitting on the counter.

They watch the movie together, empty bowls on the coffee table as Roland excitedly points out his favorite parts to them from where he sits on the carpet. Robin draws Regina into his lap on the couch and plays with the ends of her hair, planting sweet kisses on her neck every now and then, and he thanks his lucky stars that he is able to enjoy this very moment, that he's able to hold her in his arms and bask in a happiness he never thought he'd have again.


	28. Celebrate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse fluff.

It's her birthday, and she's asked him and their respective sons to not make a big deal out of it, says she's never really celebrated it and would like it to stay that way because she refuses to "make a fuss about something so mundane as my being born," but later, Roland had silently approached his father and asked, appalled, how it was possible for someone to not like their birthday. Robin had only smiled at his son, telling him he'd find a way to make Regina's birthday special, and Henry had readily agreed once the plan had been relayed to him.

The house is overtaken with the smell of flowers. Delicate, white peonies line every possible surface in the living room and foyer, a trail of petals running from the door to the coffee table, where the cake Henry baked sits tall and delicious, with a rather enticing concoction covering it, beckoning them to try it. Robin is impressed with the boy's ability, tells him as much, and Henry chuckles and admits Snow did most of the work, but he looks proud at Robin's acknowledgement nonetheless.

"What time is she getting home?" he asks him then, and it's Roland who answers before Robin can.

"When the big hand is on the 12 and the small hand is on the 5," the little boy recites eagerly as he points to the clock over the mantle, breaking out of his focus for a moment. He's been working on a card for her, one that makes no sense but Robin knows Regina will love anyway.

Surveying the room, he realizes one very important thing is missing, his gift for her. He goes into the study immediately to retrieve it.

Robin is still trying to learn how to work modern appliances and technology, but photographs had been something he'd taken quite a liking to and insisted on learning about, so he'd asked Regina to teach him, and they had spent a wonderful day together in the park, playing around with Henry's camera, taking pictures of the boys while they joyfully pretended to swordfight, of themselves staring at the lens with ridiculous, cheesy smiles on their faces, and Robin had even managed to snap a few of Regina, serene and peaceful while she took in the afternoon sun with her eyes closed, her face tilted upwards into the light. He looks at those pictures now as he takes them out of the small bag, enjoying them again and again, in awe of how such a small, simple device can capture such precious, unique moments that mean the world to him.

The photos he's decided to frame for Regina as a birthday gift are two of his favorites, one is a snap he'd taken of her smiling the biggest smile he's ever seen her give, looking innocently up and away from the camera while Roland plants a big wet kiss on one of her cheeks, Henry doing the same on the other. The second one had been taken by Henry while they'd been unaware, too lost in each other to hear the click of the camera. They stand close together, the green of the trees in the blurry background matching his jacket. He is grinning at her like an idiot, his hand brushing a lock of her hair back behind her ear, and there is an easy, beautiful smile on her lips that makes his breath catch every time he looks at it, making his face inadvertently arrange itself in the same devoting look he's sporting in the image before him.

It amazes him, how beautiful she is. How completely and utterly breathtaking she looks without even having to try. His heart swells with the love he feels for her, and he takes a moment to bask in the happiness it brings him to know that she loves him back just as fiercely.

Henry startles him out of his musings with a hurried "she's here!" that he whispers as he hides behind the couch, waving his hand frantically for Robin and Roland to do the same, the markers Roland had been using quickly tossed on the desk in the study by Henry while Robin had been lost in his thoughts. When they hear the car door close, all three of them are huddled behind the couch, Roland clutching his finished card in his hands while Henry pokes his head up to keep an eye out for his mother.

Sure enough, the clinking of the keys as Regina starts to unlock the door promptly tells them that she's home, and Robin has to wrap an arm around Roland to keep him from jumping up before it's time.

"Robin?" he hears her call, and it takes everything in him not to reply.

"Henry? Roland? Where is everybody?" she continues. She's looking down when she walks in, wiggling her keys in her fingers to better accommodate them in her hand, but when she tilts her head up and takes in the state of her house, she gasps, and Robin peeks his head from where he's hiding, the better to see her reaction.

She's overwhelmed, he can tell by the way her eyes water when she turns her head every which way and looks at the flowers that surround her.

"You three better get out of wherever you're hiding and come hug me," she commands, and Roland is off, sprinting from behind the couch and running towards her, jumping into her arms with a high-pitched scream of "happy birthday!" that has her wincing, but she laughs, accepting the kiss he presses to her cheek and looking over at Robin and Henry when they emerge from their hiding place.

When they try to reach and hug her hello, they find that Roland has monopolized her attention for a moment, has her marveling at the card he's made for her, a rainbow hovering over four stick figures, the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY written in Henry's handwriting across the top.

"Henry helped me with the words but I did everything else myself!" he gushes, "see that's you," he says as he points to a stick figure holding a red and purple blob that he explains is an apple with a flower on top, "and that's Henry," he continues as he points to another figure that Regina notices has red-and-grey stripes around the neck, just like the scarf she made for Henry when he was seven, the one he continues to wear even though it's tattered and old. "And then that's Papa, he's green because you say he smells like the forest, see?" Roland excitedly explains, stabbing the paper with his finger on top of a green stick figure that is taller than the others, with strange brown and black shapes on his hand and back that Regina assumes are his bow and quiver, and finally the boy points to a smaller figure standing between Henry and herself, a tiny thing with wild brown squiggles on its head, "I drew my hair all crazy because you always like to play with it and make me look funny," he finishes, and then giggles when Regina does just that, tangling her fingers in his hair and messing up the curls.

"Thank you, Roland, it's beautiful," she tells him, kissing his cheek and putting him back down on the floor, then looking up at Henry as he approaches her with a smile.

"Happy birthday, mom," he says, throwing his arms around her and squeezing, and Regina feels herself sighing in his embrace, always overwhelmed by the love she has for her son, by the happiness she feels at having him close to her, at having him love her back after everything they'd been through.

"I made you a cake," he says, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, and Regina gasps.

"You made that?!"

"Well, grandma helped… a lot," he admits sheepishly, "it's your favorite! Carrot cake and cream cheese frosting."

"You're kidding," she says, grinning happily, her mouth watering at the thought of digging into the cake, but there's one more person she needs to address.

"I thought I told you I didn't want to celebrate my birthday," she chides as the boys run off into the kitchen for plates and spoons, leaving her and Robin alone in the living room.

"And I told you there was no way I was letting such an important day just pass by like any other," he retorts, taking Roland's card from her hands and setting it carefully on the coffee table by the cake before drawing her into his arms and smiling.

"You're impossible," she says, attempting to sound stern, but she's grinning at him and he knows he's won.

"You're adorable," he replies, then leans down to give her a kiss, only to be interrupted before he can touch his lips to hers.

"Eww! Kissing is icky, Papa!" Roland intervenes, and Robin chuckles as he brings his forehead down to rest against hers. Regina then hears Henry's laughter in the background as he assesses the situation. There was a time not long ago where he would've reacted the exact same way, but he's older now, and he understands, knows that adults sometimes need a moment alone, so he convinces Roland to follow him up to his room to play video games while it's time to dig into the cake, and Robin and Regina are once again left by themselves in the living room, with no apparent chance of an interruption for at least the next twenty minutes.

"So," Robin says, winding his arms around her again, "where were we?"

"I was ranting at you for celebrating my birthday when I specifically told you not to," Regina replies, but her arms are already snaking up his body, hands grabbing his jacket and bringing him closer to her as she runs the tip of her nose along his neck.

"Ah, yes, your never-ending stubbornness," he replies, pulling back a little and looking into her eyes, "it may not be a big deal to you, but to me, the birth of the woman I love is something worth celebrating."

Regina feels a rush of warmth run through her and her face breaks into a full-blown smile, waiting for the kiss she knows is coming. Sure enough, not two seconds later, his lips are on hers, soft and inviting as always, the languid brushes of his tongue in complete contrast to the way he's grasping her waist tightly against him, a hand wondering up her back and down again, fingers skimming under her shirt, playing with the warm skin there, and she moans into his mouth, low and deliberate, knowing the reaction she's bound to get from him when she makes such enticing sounds, and there it is, the growl that erupts from him and makes him turn the kiss into something deeper, a hand cupping and squeezing one of her breasts while he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at it with his teeth, then letting go of it to bend his head to her neck and lavish the skin there with slow, wet licks and tiny kisses that have her gasping into his ear, her hands coming up to clutch at his hair.

"Do you like the flowers?" he asked against the column of her throat when his hand drops from her breasts and rests on her ribcage, thumb rubbing up and down over her shirt. Regina pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, offering him a tender smile.

"I love them," she says, "and the card, and the cake. You boys really didn't have to do all this."

Robin shakes his head with a grin, pulling her closer and humming softly.

"We wanted to spoil you," he says with a shrug, bending forward and kissing her forehead. Regina closes her eyes at the contact, so caught up in the feeling of his lips against her skin that she forgets to reply when he asks her how her day was.

"Oh!" she reacts when he pulls away and looks down at her, a knowing smirk etched on his face, "it was alright, just a little annoying. Mary Margaret really has no idea how to run this town, I had to argue with the men at the water supply for two hours before they agreed to give us more time to pay that overdue bill. How Snow ever ruled an entire kingdom is beyond me."

"Do you miss being queen?" he asks when he detects a hint of bitterness in her tone.

"No! Why would I?" she questions, aghast at his suggestion, but Robin shakes his head, clarifies.

"I'm not asking if you miss being The Evil Queen, I know that's not you anymore. But you used to run a kingdom, then this town, and now that you're Snow's advisor and no longer the monarch, I'm asking if you miss that… being a ruler, I mean."

"Sometimes," she admits, shrugging one shoulder, nose scrunching up as her lip quirks to the side, "there are days where I miss being in control of what happens around me…" she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth, for there is a frown on Robin's face she knows well, has known it since the day she asked him to guard her heart – _you're really going to entrust something so valuable to a common thief like me?—_ and she hates it,that frown he gets whenever he thinks he's not enough, that he's too simple, too _common_ for someone like her, because he's wrong, he's so, so wrong.

Robin feels Regina's body press closer against his and turns to look at her. There's a smile on her face, and her eyes shine with so much love that he feels himself melt into her touch, turning his head to place a kiss on the palm she's now placed on his cheek.

"I love my life as it is now. Being with you and the boys, nothing makes me happier," she reassures, and he smiles at her, presses a kiss to her lips that is meant to be brief and sweet, but she deepens it, locks her hands together around his waist when his bury themselves into her hair, and the way he scratches softly at her scalp has her moaning again as her tongue tangles with his slowly, blissfully.

Their lips part with a dull, wet sound, and Regina curls into his chest, letting him hug her to him and murmur things into her hair.

"Are you ready for your gift, m'lady?" he asks when he pulls away.

"You got me a gift? Robin I told you—"

"I know what you told me, and I choose to ignore it. It's your birthday, your majesty, and I will bestow gifts worthy of you… Don't worry, I didn't get you jewelry or a ball gown," he jokes when her eyes go wide in alarm. She then crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to give her the gift and get it over with.

But when she finally gets around to opening the small parcel he places in her hands and sees what's inside, Regina gasps, eyes shining with happy tears as they focus on the pictures he's set in simple silver frames.

"Robin," she breathes, a hand going to her mouth in amazement as she stares and stares at the beautiful photos. Robin grins, presses his front to her side and plants a kiss on her cheek, resting his forehead against her temple.

"Happy birthday, Regina," he whispers.

"Thank you," she says. It's all she can say, all she ever wants to say. There's so much gratitude in her tone, as if she can't believe he's with her, as if she doesn't understand how he can possibly love her this much, and Robin wants that feeling in her to go away, wants her to see how much she deserves to be loved, so he kisses her lips again, feeling her body press fully into his when she turns so she can wind her arms around his neck.

"I love you," he tells her, kissing her cheek and holding her close, promising to himself that he'll never let her go again.

"I love you, too," she says with closed eyes and a watery smile, and when all three of her favorite boys sing her the traditional song for the occasion in loud, off-key voices, when they give her a joint hug that makes her feel safe and happy, when they gorge on the delicious cake her little prince made for her, when they laugh as Roland smears frosting on the tip of her nose and Robin kisses it off, Regina starts to think that maybe she could get used to this. And later that night, when the boys are asleep and the man she loves is on top of her, giving her the most exquisite of kisses while he moves inside her, she realizes that regardless of her previous arguments, birthdays are now something she looks forward to.


	29. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse fluff.

There's a hand in her hair, massaging her scalp and playing with her dark tresses, slowly bringing her out of her slumber. Regina hums and opens her eyes slowly, realizing she'd fallen asleep on the couch again. Robin is crouched down in front of her, looking and looking at her face with a smile and eyes sparkling with love for her.

"I thought you said you weren't tired," he teases, and she huffs, scrunching up her nose as she looks at him. It had been a long day at the office, going over budget reports with Mary Margaret while at the same time trying to keep baby Neal happy and quiet so they could get some work done.

"Maybe a little," she admits, then sits up and makes room for him, "now come here and be my pillow."

Robin obliges happily, grinning when she folds herself into his arms and pushes him so that they're fully horizontal and cuddled together, him on his back with his head resting on the arm of the couch, her tucked on her side between him and the back cushions. Her head is on his shoulder, one of his arms wrapped around her.

"Better?" he asks, his free hand playing with her fingers on top of his stomach, and she chuckles and nods against him, her chin digging into his chest.

It's just the two of them tonight. Henry is with Emma, and Roland is with his mother, leaving Robin and Regina with a rare night to themselves. They have no plans, other than to simply enjoy each other.

He places a kiss on her forehead and then stares at the ceiling, basking in the intimacy of the moment, in the warmth of her body against his. After a few minutes, he feels her breathing deepen, and knows she's asleep again, so he tightens his hold on her, takes in the sweet smell of her hair, and lets her rest.

She wakes about twenty minutes later, the arm tucked under her has gone numb, and as she moves it, she feels pins and needles stab at it and winces. Robin is still holding her, and he laughs lightly when he sees the scowl that forms on her face at the unpleasant sensation.

"You alright?" he asks.

"Fine. It's just my arm fell asleep," she tells him, her tone grouchier than she'd meant it to be, but he seems amused, silently shifting and getting up so that there's more space for her to maneuver. She sits up, and then flinches when she feels the ache in her neck, the same straining, painful thing that had been bothering her since she got home. He notices her grimace and moves behind her, his hands falling to her neck and massaging slowly, firmly, earning him a tiny moan from Regina.

"Good?" he asks, and she sighs.

"Yes. Don't stop," she tells him in a breathy voice, and so he continues his ministrations, applying pressure where he feels the knots the strain on her neck has created, easing away the pain she'd been feeling for the past hour or so with simple circular movements, kneading carefully for a few minutes until she moves her hair to the side and he can't resist the urge to taste the skin she's bared to him.

He leans down, kissing and nibbling at her neck while he continues to massage her tight muscles. Regina sighs his name and lets her head loll to the side, giving him more room so he can kiss his way up her throat and to her jaw, sucking at her pulse point before he continues on his way to her mouth.

It's an awkward angle, as he still hovers above her from where he stands behind the couch, but then her tongue is in his mouth and he's leaning over, letting his body fall gently on top of hers as she grabs both sides of his face, bringing him down with her when she lies back on the couch, moaning softly as she kisses him.

"How about some tea?" he murmurs against her mouth, his teeth grazing her bottom lip, drawing out another appreciative moan from her. She nods when they part, letting him extricate himself from her grasp and watching him go as he makes his way to the kitchen.

When Robin comes back to the living room a few minutes later, a steaming mug in his hands, he smiles at the sight before him. She's fallen asleep again, her hair in disarray, silk blouse wrinkled and riding up, exposing part of her stomach to his wondering eyes, and she looks so completely beautiful that he can't bring himself to wake her, so instead he leaves the tea on the coffee table, drapes a blanket over her, and places a soft kiss on her temple.

"Rest, love," he whispers in her ear, and she hums in her sleep before settling again. He starts to head back into the kitchen to make dinner for her, but stops before reaching the hallway and turns back to catch another glimpse of her. Before he knows it, it's been ten minutes and he has yet to stop staring at Regina's sleeping form, but he doesn't care. Because he loves her.

He keeps looking at her, at this stunning woman that has so easily embedded herself in his soul, and his heart thumps wildly in his chest, radiating happiness through his entire body, and he knows, just as he's always known, that she's everything he wants, everything he needs.

And she will always be the best choice he's ever made.


	30. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Missing Year.

Robin finds her crying one night, huddled in one of the big armchairs in the library, and his heart breaks for her. He may not know her well, but he knows her enough, he knows her pain, has felt it in his own soul, that crushing heartache of losing the person you love most. No one deserves to experience that, not even the so-called Evil Queen.

His son has helped her, he knows that much as well. That little boy has made her eyes soften and a tiny smile appear on her lips from time to time, when he flashes her a dimpled grin, or brings her flowers from the forest, or picks apples with her from her tree, but not even Roland's sweet demeanor can console her in moments like this, when it's dark and everyone's gone to sleep, leaving her alone with her grief.

Slowly, he walks closer to her and places a warm hand on her back. She stiffens, she always does when she's shown any kind of affection, he's noticed, but that doesn't deter him, because he knows she needs it, regardless of how much she pretends to everyone that she's fine. Careful not to startle her, he kneels down in front of her, eyes flitting over her face, covered with her hands as she tries to wipe the tears away before he can see them, but her attempt at hiding her pain comes too late and they both know it. Robin then does something he never thought he'd do, and wraps his strong arms around her.

Startled, she fights it at first, struggling in his grasp even as she utters "What the hell do you think you're doing?" in a voice that is strong and angry, but he knows better.

She's been particularly spiteful with him lately, and she's no different now, lashing out at his attempts to comfort her. Because twice now he's seen her at her weakest, tonight's occurrence adding to the night they broke into this castle and she attempted to put herself under a sleeping curse, to while away her pain in deep slumber until her son returned to her, and the fact that he's witnessed her breakdowns scares her, he realizes, makes her feel weak, but she needn't flinch from him, he has no intention of hurting her. He could never do that. Far from it, he wants to know her, bring laughter and hope back into her life because if there's one thing he knows for sure, it's that she deserves to be happy, and he wants to be the one to make her so. He doesn't know exactly what it is about her that draws him in, but he doesn't care, all he knows is that he wants to be with her, wants to be privy to her darkest secrets and her deepest desires, to hold her and take care of her and kiss her and maker he come alive with his touch.

He wants all of her, and he's told her as much the few times they've talked, when Roland has fallen asleep on her lap and Robin's found himself brave enough to risk holding her hand, bold enough to lend voice to his feelings and run his thumb over her wrist when she doesn't draw her hand away, to lean close to her and murmur flirty comments about her beauty and how much he'd like to kiss her, along with other silly things that make her smile and blush and roll her eyes at him.

"It's called a hug, milady" he whispers in her ear, answering her earlier question, and she fights against his grasp again, but feebly, as if she's considering the possibility of simply giving in, and he encourages her to do so, tightening his hold on her before he lets go and brings his hands up to cup her face, looking into her frantic eyes.

"You're allowed to be sad, you're allowed to be angry, you're allowed to _grieve_ ," he tells her, "but I won't let you go through it alone."

There's a flash of something in her eyes as he says it, and suddenly there's a smile on her lips, a small, hesitant thing, but he sees it, answers it with a full-blown one of his own when she breathes a "thank you," and then he leans forward and places a tender kiss on her forehead, his lips flashing with heat where they touch her skin, and that magnetic pull right there, that is what keeps him coming back, that is what draws him to her, and he needs more of it, more of that electric feeling that travels through his body and ignites him, so before he can think twice about his next move, he makes it, landing his mouth softly on hers. It's a small peck, a brief press of lips that she's too shocked to return, and he parts from her and drops his hands before she can push him away. She's speechless, stares at him determinedly, and he realizes she's waiting for him to apologize, but he doesn't, refuses to do so, and shakes his head and leans closer again, but she squirms away, moving her head to the side so that he can't reach her lips.

"Why?" she asks, and he can tell she's not exactly sure what it is she's asking him to justify, but he answers anyway.

"You know why."

"You can't want _me_. I'm too… damaged," she tells him as she looks down, once again trying to push him away, but he's persistent, will remain so until she lets herself embrace this connection between them. He's still kneeling in front of her, and his hand darts out to hold hers and squeezes it, his other hand hooking a finger under her chin and tilting her head towards him.

"You're wrong. I know your soul, Regina, and it is stunning… in _every_ way," he says with fervor, and his words make her eyes burn with tears. He'd venture a guess no one's ever complimented her like this. Her beauty, sure, but _her_ , who she is, what she feels, no one's ever bothered to appreciate that, and when he draws closer and plants another kiss, this time on the apple of her cheek, he can taste the tears that have started to fall, and he wants nothing more than to ease her suffering, to draw her fully into his arms and offer her comfort, and so that is exactly what he does, ushering her from the chair and to the floor in his arms, surprised when she doesn't flinch away from his touch and instead curls into him, letting the tears finally fall freely. He holds her, whispers random things against her hair, tells her stories about Roland when he was younger, of his escapades with the Merry Men as he grew up in Sherwood Forest, and it seems to help her calm, her breathing easing in and out as his hand runs up and down her back. She's sitting on his lap, hands clutching at the coarse fabric of the shirt that covers his chest, her face buried there, and she takes a deep whiff, and finds it in herself to speak.

"You smell like forest," she quips.

"You like that about me," he teases back, and she smiles again, small, but heartfelt and true, and her face is so close to his that he can't help but bend forward, his lips finding home on hers, sweet and lingering, and finally, _finally,_ she responds, kissing him back just as slow, just as tenderly, as if she, too, is enjoying this rare, perfect moment between them. His tongue peeks out, licking slowly at the seam of her lips, and she opens for him, hesitant at first, but when he explores her mouth and sucks at her bottom lip, she loses her apprehension, deepening the kiss and moaning softly into it, her hand tangling in his hair while his skims up and down her thigh over the rich, velvety material of her dress.

She presses tighter against him, attempting all of a sudden to turn this into something passionate, physical and no more, but he won't let her, not now when he's finally getting through to her. So when she ventures a hand to his waist, trying to pull open his breeches, he stops her, putting his hand over hers as he parts their lips, resting his forehead on hers and sighing into the small space between them.

"That's not what I'm after," he says, and when he sees the flicker of rejection that tightens her eyes, he adds, "at least not tonight."

"Then what is this about?" she asks, and it hurts him to see that she's genuinely confused, that she thinks the only way to draw comfort from someone else is through sex. He's willing to show her differently.

"I just want you to let me in, Regina," he tells her, "I want to hold you in my arms while you let out your frustrations and I want you to allow me to be a comfort to you."

His arm is resting on her thighs as she looks into his eyes, no doubt trying to pinpoint the lie in his declaration, but she won't find it, because he truly does mean every word. He goes even further, angling his head so he can drop a sweet kiss on her shoulder, "all I want," he says as he moves his lips to her jaw, "is to be close to you," another kiss on her cheek, "please let me."

She exhales audibly, shaking her head as if to clear it from the haze his attentions have induced on her, and though her eyes are sad, he notices now that there's the tiniest spark of hope in them. She lets herself go at last, head falling to the joint of his neck and shoulder as she tightens her hold around him, and he turns and plants kisses in her hair, holding her against him and rubbing his hand up and down her leg.

"I miss him so much," she says brokenly against his neck, her lips brushing his skin as she speaks.

"I know," he tells her as he begins to rock their bodies back and forth, his lips lingering by her temple before moving down to kiss her eyelids, the slope of her nose, her cheekbone, her chin. She burrows closer to him, breathing in his scent again, and he sighs contentedly, because finally, it seems, she's letting him see her. Finally, she's accepting him into her heart.


	31. Hope, Part 2

It's her laughter that wakes him, raises him from slumber with the sweet, sensual sound of her voice, and he smiles when he hears it, gets out of bed quickly and washes and dresses himself while she giggles in the distance. She's outside, he realizes, and she's not alone. A child's laughter joins hers, and Robin then understands. Sure enough, when he looks out the window, Roland is with her.

"Catch me, majesty! Catch me!" he keeps shouting at her as he runs in circles around a fountain in the gardens, and she tries, she does, but her skirts are too heavy and limit her movements, so the most she manages is to grasp at his shirt, only to laugh again when he easily slips away and continues running, making his way into the castle with her trailing after him, calling out his name.

They're in the kitchens when he arrives, and it amuses him to see that she's cooking. She's shed her rich, velvet gown, her heavy cape and impossibly high heels, has opted for something more natural, flat shoes and an understated cream colored dress that she no doubt conjured with her magic sometime between walking back inside with his son and setting about making breakfast. Her face is devoid of makeup, her hair tumbling in thick curls behind her, kept away from her face by the two small pins she's placed on either side of her head. The sun shines in through the kitchen window, and it makes her skin look golden in contrast with the color of the dress. The simple silhouette of fabric hugs her figure to the waist before it opens into a full skirt, one that swishes this way and that as she moves around the kitchen, whisking and mixing and dotting Roland's nose with flour when she taps the tip of it with her finger, and they laugh and sing and cook together, and Robin is mesmerized by the sight of them.

She tenses when he makes his presence known, still a little hung up on what happened between them last week to be completely at ease when he's around. She's been avoiding him, hiding from him, and has done a spectacular job of it until today, when she's trapped in the kitchen and can't run for the hills like she's done whenever they run into each other in the castle.

Roland perks up at the sight of his father, jumps down from the counter where he'd been sitting and walks over to him. Robin crouches down in front of his son, his eyes on Regina even as the boy excitedly starts to ramble.

"Papa, majesty is making me breakfast and she's teaching me to cook!"

"Is she, now?" he asks his son, still looking at her, and he knows she can feel his eyes boring into her, but she refuses to turn around, makes herself busy by cracking a couple of eggs on a bowl and whisking them with the rest of the batter.

"Yes! We played for a little bit and now she's making me pencakes!"

" _Pan_ cakes," Regina corrects automatically, and Robin smiles tenderly at her when she turns around to address the boy.

"May we speak for a moment?" he asks her when she starts ladling the mixture she's put together onto the griddle she's placed on the stove.

"I'm rather busy," she tells him, her back to him again as she starts to flip a pancake, but his hand on her back stops her, makes her drop the spatula she was holding to the floor. Roland hurries to help and picks it up, handing it back to Regina.

"Roland, I think I saw some strawberries in the bushes by the fountain, do you think you could go get us a few? For the pancakes?" she asks him when she takes the utensil from him, and he nods eagerly, skipping out of the kitchen and leaving them alone in their awkwardness.

"What do you want?" she asks, trying to sound defiant, but her voice trembles, as if she doesn't really want to ask because she's scared of his answer, scared he'll just use her and leave, and his heart breaks for her, as it always does when he sees the extent to which she's been mistreated.

"I want to hold you, if you'll let me," he tells her. It's not exactly the complete truth, because he doesn't just want to hold her, he wants all of her, has told her so many times before, but he knows she's scared, so he settles for the less threatening of options.

"Hold me?"

"Yes, I quite like having you in my arms, your majesty," he says to her, placing a tentative hand on her waist, then wrapping an arm around her fully when she doesn't flinch away.

* * *

 

She has no idea what's happening, doesn't know what it is about him that befuddles her mind and ensnares her senses, but she is certain of one thing: his touch feels wonderful, and she wants his hands on her, for as long as possible before her sanity kicks back in and she runs away from him.

That supposed sanity doesn't come this time, though, and she remains in his embrace for ten full minutes, feeling his lips ghost over her temple as he moves them, leaning the small of his back against the counter and holding her tighter, breathing her in and humming in satisfaction.

"May I kiss you, Regina?" he asks then, and before she can stop herself, she's nodding and tilting her head towards him, letting him place his lips gently on hers. It's sweet and short, chaste and domestic and somehow more intimate than she'd expected, and while it throws her that she's found such closeness with him, that she can't seem to shake him off no matter how hard she tries, right now she just feels him, just feels his body firm and warm against hers and his hands skimming up her back as he presses another gentle peck on her mouth, then drops his head to kiss down her neck.

"Good morning," he rasps against her throat. She chuckles, because his comment is absurd and completely cheesy, but it's him and it's beautiful, the way he laces desire and care into two simple words, and she can't stop herself from returning the sentiment.

* * *

 

She smiles at him, what he hopes is the first of many, many smiles, and the way she bites her bottom lip through her grin, the way she moves closer and is the one to kiss _him_ for a change, it sends a thrill through his body that he wants to feel again and again.

Because she is hurt and strong and beautiful and _his_ , and he will always, always, be hers in return.


	32. Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse.  
> Regina has a touch of PTSD after being tortured by Greg.

She still has nightmares about it sometimes. Has nightmares about it and hates herself for it. It was a long time ago, and she's been in worse situations, she shouldn't be dealing with this anymore, but no matter how much she tries to keep the dreams at bay, they invade her at night, clouding her mind with images of Greg's face, of his eyes shining with the sheer pleasure he drew from flipping that switch and watching the painful jolts of electricity overwhelm her.

Tonight is one of those nights, as the last four have been, and though the rest of her body doesn't move, her eyes snap open in terror, the sound of Greg's maniacal laughter echoing in her head. It takes her a while to understand her surroundings, her vision hazy still from the tears she'd shed in her sleep. There's an arm around her, and she feels Robin's breath against the back of her neck as he snores softly behind her, his naked chest warm against her back.

The clock on her bedside table tells her it's four in the morning, and she knows she won't be going back to sleep anytime soon, so she rises slowly, extricating herself from her lover's hold and padding around the room until she finds her robe, drapes it over her naked body and ties the sash at her waist. Robin grunts in his sleep and stirs a little, but remains asleep, and she quietly slips away from the room, heading downstairs to her kitchen.

She feels them, those treacherous tears that always escape her when she remembers the terror she went through at Greg Mendell's hands. She's never spoken about it, never told anyone how scared she was, or how much pain was inflicted on her, or how a part of her believed she deserved it for all the suffering she'd caused. Truth be told, she knows now, knows that her past mistakes do not merit her being strapped to a table and electrocuted by a madman, but old habits die hard, and even in her dreams, when she begs for mercy, she doesn't dispute Greg's voice when it tells her she doesn't deserve it.

The kettle starts to whistle, startling her from her thoughts, and she pours the hot water in her favorite mug and dips a bag of peppermint tea in it repeatedly, letting the smell of it soothe her nerves. She takes it with her to the living room and sits on the couch, takes small sips and allows herself to cry silently, giving up on sleep altogether and giving in to the fears her nightmare had brought to the surface.

It's ten minutes of emotional anguish before she hears a noise, and suddenly Robin's bare feet are at the foot of the stairs, and he's looking at her, confused and concerned.

"What are you doing up?" she asks with a gentle smile, and he shrugs his shoulders lazily.

"You weren't in my arms," he replies, and it would sound like a line in any other circumstances, but she knows he's telling her the truth. It's been months since they got back together, since he ditched his misconstrued ideals of honor and decided to honor his love for her instead. They've been sharing her bed more often than not, and she's noticed he grows restless if he's not holding her while he sleeps.

"What's wrong?" he asks her, his voice hoarse with sleep.

"Nothing, I'm fine," she says, and it sounds stiff and false even to her ears. Robin takes a deep breath, walks slowly towards the couch and sits next to her, taking her mug of tea from her hands and setting it on the coffee table before he turns on his side to look at her, his arm draped over the back of the couch, hand splayed on her shoulder blade as she tucks her knees under her and twists her body to mirror his position.

"You know better than to lie to me," he tells her softly, without judgment, only worry. Regina sighs, looking down and away from him as she tries to blink back the tears while he rubs her back, but then his other hand rises from her lap where he'd been absentmindedly caressing her thigh and hooks a finger under her chin, tilting her head up again. He places the softest of kisses on her lips, then opens his eyes to look straight into hers, brown and deep and mysterious and… scared.

"You're frightened," he says, and she shivers, takes a deep breath when he drops a kiss on her temple and whispers in her ear that she's safe, that he's got her, and then she gathers what's left of her courage and finally speaks.

She tells him. She tells him everything. From her kidnapping to Greg's torture device, to his excited cries of victory whenever he drew a tear or a gasp out of her while she was strapped to that table, she tells him all of it, more tears springing to her eyes when she notices the pained expression on his face, the anger she knows he feels at not having been there to protect her, even though they didn't know each other then. It kills her, to inflict such anguish on him, but he had asked, and the second she had begun to speak, it was like she couldn't breathe until she got it all out.

"Regina," he says when she's finally done talking, when her voice has gone low and quiet, fizzling out as she ends her story.

"It's stupid," she says to him then, "he's dead, he can't hurt me, I'm over it. But there are some nights… like tonight… where the dreams just won't let me move on."

"You were tortured, my love," he says, and the word makes her flinch, "it's not something you can just get over."

"I've had worse, I should be able to get past this, I should be able to get some damn sleep!" she snaps, frustrated with herself, with the way her life keeps getting messed up by the consequences of her past. Robin stops her self-deprecating thoughts, kisses her tears away, first one cheek, then the other, then her eyelids and the tip of her nose while his hands cup her face.

"You're not alone anymore, you don't have to deal with this on your own," he whispers, "I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I just wish I could forget about this and sleep. I'm so tired, Robin," she admits. She hasn't been able to sleep well for almost a week now, and while she has found ways to continue functioning, it's wearing on her. Robin takes her into his arms then, hugging her and weaving his fingers through her hair, holding on tightly while she cries and cries and cries.

"Take off the robe and lie down," he suggests when her sobs have subsided, his voice barely audible.

"I'm really not in the mood for that," she tells him as she moves away from his embrace to raise an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles despite the heaviness in the air, shaking his head at her.

"Don't worry, my intentions are perfectly chaste," he promises, and Regina pretends to consider it, but she trusts him, believes him, so she shifts and removes the robe, lets him get up from the couch and help her lie on her stomach. He kneels before her then, placing his hands on her back and kneading the muscles there, moving up to work out the knots that tense up her neck and shoulders, then back down, down, down, until he reaches the small of her back and can't resist the temptation of tasting her skin, bending forward and placing a gentle kiss there, then another as he starts making his way back up, and a sound that can only be described as a purr leaves her lips as he feels her relax under his touch.

"That feels good," she murmurs as he continues to massage her back, his mouth joining his hands as he drops kiss after kiss in their wake.

"Shh," he tells her, "just try to relax."

After long, lazy minutes, she is boneless and content, though some of her anxiety still lingers. Moving to sit up, she lets him put her robe back on her, then sighs when he gathers her in his arms and holds her tightly, lips against her forehead, muttering reassurances against her skin.

"I'm so sorry for everything you had to go through. I promise you, you won't ever have to experience anything like that again while I'm around. I love you, Regina."

"I love you, too," she whispers back, sighing as she burrows closer to him, loving the way his hand continues to rub up and down her back as they move to lay more comfortably, her body nestled between his and the back of the couch as she dozes off.

She wakes to his tender kisses sometime before noon, rested and refreshed and so, so in love.


	33. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse.  
> Robin's first Thanksgiving.

There's a wonderful smell coming from the kitchen, invading him with thoughts of home, of love, of _her._ Walking in, he sees her, with Roland standing carefully on a stool she's placed by the counter, giving him enough height so he can see what he's doing as he helps her place marshmallows over the yams, giggling when she tickles him for eating the treats instead of focusing on his task.

When she looks up, she notices him standing by the kitchen door, and there's that smile again, the one she's reserved only for him, the one he's daydreamed about since the first time he drew it out of her.

"Well look who's finally woken up," she tells him, "I thought you were only napping for a half hour?" There's a slight raise to her eyebrow, the slightest hint of a scowl on her lips, and she just looks… absolutely adorable. Robin knows that telling her that will only earn him a roll of her eyes, though, so he just walks towards her and kisses her, a chaste press of his lips against hers that is interrupted by his son, who mutters an annoyed "eww" and "not again!" as he jumps off the stool and runs out of the kitchen, threatening to pick up the phone –a device the boy has yet to learn how to use— and call Henry to let him know that "Papa and Regina are being yucky" even after he specifically told them not to.

Robin laughs as his boy scampers away, then presses his forehead to Regina's, who is as amused as he is, and then the tip of his nose is playing with hers, and they breathe each other in, eyes closed as his arms encase her waist to pull her closer to him, the movement making the kitchen towel she had over her shoulder fall to the floor, but neither of them moves to pick it up.

"Happy Thanksgiving, milady," he whispers against her lips. Her arms wind up around his neck and she smiles again, and he feels his heart flutter in his chest at the sight.

"Happy Thanksgiving," she replies in that raspy, delicious voice of hers, that voice that _does things_ to him, things he has no business thinking about when they're in the middle of her very occupied kitchen, where there's no space available for him to fulfill the many, many scenarios his mind is concocting now, all of which require a lot less clothing than they have on at the moment.

"What can I do to help?" he asks instead, and she shakes her head, her hands dropping from his neck, caressing his shoulders and down to his forearms where they stay hooked on the crooks of his elbows, her thumb rubbing his skin tenderly.

"I've got it handled, you can just go watch TV with Roland, if you'd like."

"Oh but I'd much rather stay here," he says cheekily, holding her tighter, "where I can kiss you," he continues as he bends down to press his lips to her jaw, "anywhere I want," his kisses travel to her pulse point, then her collarbone, and back up to her cheek, "and feel you melt into my arms because you like it when I do this," he finishes, gently biting her earlobe and then bringing his lips back to hers.

"Robin," she says against his mouth, half warning, half moaning.

"Regina," he replies, teasing her with his tongue, and she opens for him and lets him kiss her good and proper now, whimpering as she kisses him back with equal fervor, sucks at his upper lip as he does her bottom one, and his hands travel down over her body, shamelessly palming her rear as he grunts into her mouth.

"Oh, no," she chides, pulling apart from him, "we're not doing this now."

"Why not?"

"Because your son is in the other room, and because I still have things to finish if we want to get all this food packed up and ready to take to your camp. I haven't even started on the cranberry sauce and you know John and Tuck were very excited about it."

"Let them starve, I want you all to myself today," he tells her with a mischievous smile, kissing the tip of her nose as her hands drop to his sides, nails dragging over him as she curls her fingers around the fabric of his shirt.

"It's Roland's first Thanksgiving… and yours, I want it to be special."

"Regina, every single day I get to spend with you is special."

"If you're trying to make me swoon so you can distract me and take me upstairs, it's not gonna work," she says with a roll of her eyes, but she's blushing, and it makes him grin in satisfaction, one of his hands moving up to thread in the hair behind her ear, his thumb running back and forth over her cheekbone as he looks and looks at her, never tiring of the beauty of her face, especially when it's like this, glowing and carefree and _happy_. Happy because she loves him, happy because he _makes_ her so.

"I love you so much," he tells her then, growing serious for a moment as he looks into her eyes and conveys with his own how much he means that statement. She gives him a watery smile before she returns the sentiment, plants a brief kiss on his lips, and then shoos him out of the kitchen so she can finish cooking dinner, a grin spreading from ear to ear and that gorgeous blush still on her cheeks.


	34. Under the Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse.  
> Robin finds out about the mistletoe tradition.

The arrival of the first week of December carries with it a sense of newly awoken holiday cheer that Regina detests. Everyone seems to have gotten the hang of Christmas by now, including those who have never actually experienced one, as they were brought to this world with the most recent curse. Granny makes special hot peppermint cocoa and Henry spends his afternoons at the park, taking photos of the trees as they get covered in a fluffy coat of snow. Regina knows she has great reasons to be happy this year, and knows she shouldn't hate Christmas as much as she does, but old habits die hard, and the bitterness that sets in her soul as she sees decorations begin to pop up in every building in town make her grit her teeth in annoyance.

To make matters worse, Robin is absolutely delighted about the holiday, prancing around town with Roland and sampling all the traditional treats of the season, helping Emma and Henry decorate Snow's loft and even volunteering along with his men to cut down the pine trees that will go in everyone's living rooms sometime this weekend.

It's not until he takes her out to breakfast at Granny's on the third day of this ridiculous month-long Hallmark card that he spots it.

"What is that and why are you hanging it from the ceiling?" he asks Ruby curiously.

"Mistletoe," she replies with a smile, "it's a Christmas tradition. Whenever two people find themselves under it, they have to kiss."

He looks at Regina then, and his smile is mischievous and excited as he saunters over to her. She can tell what his intentions are before he even tries to pull her with him to the proper spot, so she hastily pushes him away and walks towards the counter to order her food.

"What's wrong?" he asks her.

"You're not kissing me under the mistletoe," she tells him firmly.

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous."

"Begging your pardon, milady, but there is nothing ridiculous about me having yet another excuse to kiss you," he teases, smirking at her, but she remains unfazed.

"I wasn't aware you needed an _excuse_ to kiss me," she snaps back, looking over the menu.

"Regina," he starts, realizing she's truly upset, "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know you didn't," she says, irritated, though it seems more at herself than at him.

"Why are you so against Christmas?"

"Why are you so excited about it? It's just a stupid holiday."

"It's a beautiful holiday, and I get to spend it with you, I'm quite happy about that," he says then, and her heart melts at the way he looks at her, with so much love shining in his eyes, but she refuses to give in.

"You're still not kissing me under the mistletoe," she fires back.

"But it's tradition, your majesty," he quips, biting his lower lip and giving her a cheeky smirk, but Regina is angry now, so she simply snaps the menu shut, tells him she's not hungry anymore, and leaves.

* * *

 

When Henry was younger, Regina had found Christmas to be quite lovely. Watching her little prince prance around the park, playing in the snow, baking gingerbread cookies and decorating the house, it had all been beautiful, but there had always been a nagging pain in her chest as she watched couples walk around holding hands and huddling into each other to escape the bitter cold, or when she saw them share cups of hot cocoa or put up decorations together or enjoying the warm, homey feel of Granny's when snow storms raged outside. Christmas was about love, and all it did was remind Regina that she would never have that. Sure, she was perfectly content with Henry and enjoyed spending time with him and sharing all those precious moments together, but the amount of mistletoe kisses amongst strangers she had to endure and the sheer lovesick puppy eyes everyone kept making at each other made her feel lonely, made her heartbreak and self-loathing spread inside her and remind her of why she'd succumbed to the darkness in the first place, and she hated that.

This year, against all odds, she had someone to share this time with, someone who loved her, and while she knew she should be with him, basking in the warm glow of the twinkle lights and singing carols and indulging in all the things she hadn't been able to before, she still couldn't shake that horrible bitterness that had accompanied the holiday for the thirty-something years she had spent in Storybrooke, or the scowl that had appeared on her face when Robin mentioned the mistletoe, or the sinking feeling that she had ruined their first Christmas together by whining over things she has no reason to whine about anymore. Robin had only wanted to share a special moment with her, after all, and she'd recoiled from it and run away here, to her former office.

Snow's "personal touch" on the space Regina used to call her own annoys her even more than usual. There is too much color, too many mismatched ornaments hanging from the tiny tree by the fireplace, too many stuffed reindeer and Santas sitting on the furniture, and too many tiny lights twinkling out of sync with each other, but Regina knows Robin would find her if she went to her house or her vault, so she remains here, grimacing at the décor, sitting in a chair she no longer has business sitting in and overseeing budget reports that no longer fall under her charge.

"Avoiding the world again?" a voice asks from the doorway, and Regina looks up to find her son staring at her with a knowing smile.

"You could say that," she replies with a humorless laugh.

"Robin's pretty worried."

"Tell him I'm fine."

"Shouldn't you be the one to do that?"

"Henry…"

"He loves you, mom, he didn't mean to upset you," he tells her as he moves further into the office and leans his hands on the desk in front of her.

"This has nothing to do with him," she replies.

"Of course it does, you're scared. Your anger held you together for so long that you're scared of letting it go..." he sighs, adding, "he just wants to make you happy, mom. Let him."

She looks at her son, so grown-up and so wise, a far cry from the innocent toddler that used to grab her hand and pull her out of the house to build snowmen on their yard on Christmas morning, the same toddler who would enthusiastically call her 'mommy' and kiss her cheek with lips full of chocolate sauce.

"How did you become so smart?" she asks him with a watery smile.

"My mom did a good job raising me," he quips, winking and smiling back.

"Where is he?" her question is a whisper, like she's afraid to know the answer, afraid he's left her because he can't deal with her insecurities anymore.

"Your vault, he thought you'd be hiding there."

"I'll talk to him," she says, then adds a heartfelt " _I promise_ ," when he looks at her skeptically.

* * *

 

It takes her a while to reach the vault, choosing to walk instead of driving, needing time to clear her head before she sees him and has to admit to him yet again that she was afraid he was too good to be true, that at some moment she'd wake up and realize that this life, where she's happy and respected and _loved_ , was nothing more than a fantasy, and then she'd have to go back to staring wistfully at other couples as they share kisses and romantic winter bliss.

He's waiting for her outside the vault, giving her a tender smile as always, and he asks nothing, merely stretches out his hand, beckoning her to him and kissing her before she has the chance to say anything, breathing her in when they part and she rests her forehead on his.

"I'm sorry," she says at the same time he says "I love you," and they both laugh into the space between them. His hands go up to cup her face, thumbs rubbing back and forth over her cheekbones, and she sighs under his gentle touch.

"I didn't mean to ruin your Christmas experience," she tells him with a tiny sheepish smile. Robin grins back, shaking his head, his brow colliding with hers softly as he moves.

"No need for apologies. I know you're still a tad weary after everything that happened to us. I understand."

"Robin, I snapped and stalked off. I shouldn't hav—"

She knows he can hear the desperation in her tone, that edge that always laces her voice when she discloses her insecurities and how much they enrage her, and sure enough, he stops her before she can continue berating herself, kissing her soundly and effectively shutting her up.

"It's alright," he tells her, skimming the tip of his nose down the length of hers.

"I'll make it up to you," she vows, and he smirks against her lips.

"Well, now that you mention it, there is something you could do for me to redeem yourself," he says, his tone all mirth, eyes dancing.

"Oh? And what is that?" she asks suggestively, and then firmly adds "I'm not letting you steal anything from the town treasury," when she notices the cheeky wink he gives her. But Robin just laughs and shakes his head again, taking her hands in his and bringing them to his lips.

"Come with me," he urges, turning around and leaving his arm stretched out behind him as he pulls her with him towards the vault, his fingers clasping hers.

She's ready to tease him about how obsessed he's become with this place since they spent the first of their many nights here together almost two months ago, but when they reach the bottom of the stairs, Regina's witty comeback dies on the tip of her tongue.

There are white twinkling lights hanging from the walls and shelves, dotting the place with warm little beads of light that cast a fuzzy glow over the many trinkets she keeps here, and the ceiling has been transformed, dozens of mistletoe sprigs hanging from it, tied neatly in little red bows, the minuscule, round, white fruit from the plant visible in a few of the tiny clusters of leaves.

She gasps, and turns to look at Robin, who's moved to stand behind her with his hands on her hips and his chin on her shoulder. Their noses brush together for a moment when she moves to face him.

"Ruby and Tinkerbell helped," he interjects before she can speak, "they thought it was quite romantic, I only hope you think the same," he tells her, kissing the tip of her nose.

"But… why?" she asks, looking around her and smiling despite herself.

"To catch a glimpse of that smile of yours I'm so fond of," he says, looking utterly pleased with himself when her grin widens, his hand going up and into her hair, "and because I had nowhere else to put all this mistletoe I picked from the woods. Granny wouldn't take it."

He's teasing, trying to turn this into light banter, into something that will amuse her, but she knows him better than that, knows this is important to him for some reason. She wants to ask him what it is, but he seems to read her mind before she can even figure out how to voice her question.

"It's my first Christmas with you, Regina," he breathes into the small space between them as he ducks his head closer, "my first Christmas ever, really. I just want to enjoy it, I want _you_ to enjoy it with me."

She's so touched by his words that she has a hard time forming a sentence, so she takes a moment to breathe him in, burying her nose in his chest before looking up at him again.

"I've spent Christmas alone ever since I arrived here," she finally says, shoulders sagging, "later on I had Henry and things got better, he was such a sweet little thing and we always had a good time, but I didn't have anyone to… well… kiss me under the mistletoe," she says that with a small smile, shaking her head in disbelief, "I didn't have you."

He doesn't say anything, merely brings his face down to hers and softly nudges her cheek with his nose, closing his eyes as her hands travel to his waist, raking her nails up and down his sides. It's an automatic reaction to having him close, she realizes, that need to touch him, to feel the electric way his body hums when he's near her, to feel the heat radiating off him as a direct result of her attentions.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she tells him, and he shakes his head, bringing his hand up from her waist to thread into her hair.

"No need to apologize, my love. I know life hasn't been all too kind to you, but I'm here to change that… no matter how many times you snap at me," he replies, eyes shining in amusement.

"Thank you," is all she says, all she _can_ say, because once again she's struck by how much he strives to make her happy, and it fills her heart with joy.

"Don't thank me yet, I do have a bit of an ulterior motive," he confesses, cheeky grin back in place.

"And that is?"

"Well, you see," he tells her, tugging her closer by the waist and then moving them further into the room, so that they're standing right under the mistletoe-ridden ceiling, bodies pressed together, "now that you're here, you have no escape. There is mistletoe everywhere, so whenever you kiss me while we're in here, we'll be standing under it and thus taking part in the holiday custom."

"And what if I decide not to kiss you at all while we're down here?"

"You wouldn't dare," he gasps, making her smile mischievously even as he mutters "that's impossible, you can't resist me," in the most seductive tone he can muster.

"Try me," she challenges.

"But if we don't kiss, then it's years of bad luck, according to Ruby," he says, sounding a bit like a child now in his desperate attempt to make his oh-so-clever plan work. Regina pretends to consider it for a moment, and then she smiles, light and free and absolutely beautiful.

"Mm, we can't have that, now, can we?" she whispers against his lips, hovering but still not kissing.

"I'm afraid not, milady, you can't mess with tradition," he rasps back, and then his hand is cupping her face again, bringing her mouth to his in soft, lazy presses that turn heated when her tongue peeks out to lick at his bottom lip. He parts before she can deepen the kiss, dropping his head down to her neck and lavishing the skin there with soft, tiny pecks before moving up again and kissing her with everything he has. It is slow, no hurried movements, only the languid enjoyment of this chemistry, this passion, this _love_ that ties them together so well, only the pleasant feeling of his teeth grazing her bottom lip, of her sucking his top lip into her mouth, of their tongues darting out to dance with each other, and it is warm and wet and delicious, and it leaves Regina with a sigh on her swollen lips when he pulls away and nuzzles the side of her face.

She leans into the contact and kisses the tip of his nose, savoring the moment.

"What is it?" he asks, smiling when she lets out a breathy laugh and shakes her head at him.

"Had I known you were going to kiss me like _that_ , I might've agreed to this sooner," she says as she winks at him, and Robin brings his lips back to hers for more, reveling in the little whimper that escapes her when his hands drop down to her rear, grasping it to pull her flush against him as he plunges his tongue into her mouth.

They emerge from the vault over a half hour later with rumpled clothes and messy hair, and they head back to Granny's for some hot cocoa and gingerbread cookies.

From then on, when Christmastime arrives, it is Regina who seeks him out when they happen to stand under mistletoe, planting eager kisses on his lips until they're breathless and smiling like idiots at each other.


	35. Home for Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse Christmas.

It's cold. Too cold. Must've snowed during the night, she thinks, and it makes her smile because she knows Henry will love it, but she's too comfortable to even think of opening her eyes or move from her current position, cuddled on the bed with her head resting on the soft pillows. There's a slight chill in the air though, because they left the window half open last night and the freezing wind from outside is filtering in now, as early morning begins to make itself known by streaming light into the room.

Regina has blankets over her, but they're not enough, so she scoots back a little, cuddling closer to the warmth of the body sleeping next to her, and she feels him stir, but he doesn't wake, and she's still cold. Slowly, she reaches behind her and drags his arm over her waist, and the pull makes his body shift on its side and curve behind her, his chest to her back, and he grunts in her ear, holding her tighter when he wakes just enough to realize what she's doing.

"Everything alright?" he asks gruffly, and Regina smiles affectionately. She does this when she has nightmares, cuddles closer to him and breathes him in and seeks his touch just to reassure herself when she wakes, sweaty and scared in the middle of the night. It makes sense that that's what he thinks she's doing now, but she shakes her head, turning to face him and finally opening her eyes to meet his, then running the tip of her nose lazily over his cheek.

"I'm fine, just cold," she tells him, burying her face on the crook of his neck and trying to find sleep again.

He won't let her, though, not now that he's opened his eyes and his hand is skimming down from her waist to her rear, bringing her closer and letting her feel him against her thigh.

"I'm sure I can find better ways to, uh… warm you up," he quips, bringing his hand up to her breasts, kneading them languidly, his thumb toying with a nipple and then the other over the soft fabric that covers them. She sighs against him, then lets her tongue drag over his bottom lip slowly before their lips meet in a wet kiss that has her moaning softly as he lets his hand travel down, down, lower and lower until it catches the hem of her nightgown and hikes it up to her ribs. For a moment he stops, looks into her eyes, and then disappears under the covers, dropping kisses down her exposed stomach, tongue dipping into her belly button and making her squirm before she drags his face back up and crashes their lips togeth

It's cold. Too cold. Must've snowed during the night, she thinks, and it makes her smile because she knows Henry will love it, but she's too comfortable to even think of opening her eyes or move from her current position, cuddled on the bed with her head resting on the soft pillows. There's a slight chill in the air though, because they left the window half open last night and the freezing wind from outside is filtering in now, as early morning begins to make itself known by streaming light into the room.

Regina has blankets over her, but they're not enough, so she scoots back a little, cuddling closer to the warmth of the body sleeping next to her, and she feels him stir, but he doesn't wake, and she's still cold. Slowly, she reaches behind her and drags his arm over her waist, and the pull makes his body shift on its side and curve behind her, his chest to her back, and he grunts in her ear, holding her tighter when he wakes just enough to realize what she's doing.

"Everything alright?" he asks gruffly, and Regina smiles affectionately. She does this when she has nightmares, cuddles closer to him and breathes him in and seeks his touch just to reassure herself when she wakes, sweaty and scared in the middle of the night. It makes sense that that's what he thinks she's doing now, but she shakes her head, turning to face him and finally opening her eyes to meet his, then running the tip of her nose lazily over his cheek.

"I'm fine, just cold," she tells him, burying her face on the crook of his neck and trying to find sleep again.

He won't let her, though, not now that he's opened his eyes and his hand is skimming down from her waist to her rear, bringing her closer and letting her feel him against her thigh.

"I'm sure I can find better ways to, uh… warm you up," he quips, bringing his hand up to her breasts, kneading them languidly, his thumb toying with a nipple and then the other over the soft fabric that covers them. She sighs against him, then lets her tongue drag over his bottom lip slowly before their lips meet in a wet kiss that has her moaning softly as he lets his hand travel down, down, lower and lower until it catches the hem of her nightgown and hikes it up to her ribs. For a moment he stops, looks into her eyes, and then disappears under the covers, dropping kisses down her exposed stomach, tongue dipping into her belly button and making her squirm before she drags his face back up and crashes their lips together, his hand venturing into her underwear, fingers finding her warm and wet as they circle her entrance, and he groans into her mouth.

"Already?" he asks, and she nods eagerly, gasping into him as he crashes their lips together again, his fingers now setting a firm, lazy rhythm on her clit.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and an excited scream of "it's Christmas! It's Christmas!" startles them, making them jump apart like they've been burned, Robin withdrawing his hand from inside her.

Roland has run inside the room, throwing himself on the bed and bouncing on it from where he kneels by their feet. Robin drops his head and lets out a few expletives against her shoulder before addressing his son.

"Roland, what have we told you about barging into the bedroom when we have sleepovers at Regina's?"

"That I shouldn't do it," the boy replies, looking contrite for a few seconds before he pouts at them, "but it's Christmas! You said we would wake up early to see my presents!"

"You did say that," Regina agreed, snorting out a laugh at the glare Robin throws her way.

"Fine, let's go brush your teeth, and then we can go see the presents," he tells his son, watching him scamper off and then rising from the bed.

"You might wanna cover that up with something," Regina smirks at him, and he doesn't need to follow her gaze to know what she's talking about, the way his pajama pants feel tight around him telling him exactly what it is she's looking at. Robin walks around the bed as he slowly licks the fingers he'd had inside her, his eyes burning into hers. When he reaches her side, he leans down and grabs her breast, squeezing it as he kisses her.

"We are not done," he growls against her mouth, and she lets out a whimper when he gently nips her jaw. Then, he drops another kiss to her lips, a tender one this time, before he mutters "Happy Christmas," and walks into the bathroom.

* * *

 

With mugs of hot cocoa and a tray of gingerbread cookies on the coffee table an hour later, they sit on the floor by the Christmas tree they'd put together a couple of weeks ago and proceed to open their presents, and it isn't until Robin gets to the tiniest gift in his pile that they all freeze, waiting for him to open it.

"What are you three up to?" he asks, holding up the small box, and Regina looks shy as Henry smiles at him, Roland simply giggling and shaking his head frantically, urging his father to open the box.

When he does, he finds a single key inside. The key to this house.

"Regina?" he asks.

"You spend most of your time here, anyway, might as well make it official, don't you think?" she teases, and suddenly he's beaming, taking her into his arms and lifting her with him, scattering kisses over her face as she laughs.

"I take it that's a 'yes', then?" she asks him when he finally takes a moment to press his forehead to hers, Roland and Henry now too busy opening their own presents to pay much attention to their parents "being gross" again.

"That depends," Robin taunts, "you've yet to actually ask the question."

"Are you really going to make me say it?"

"Of course I am," he tells her, mischief dancing in his eyes when she finally takes a deep breath, as if steeling herself for the words that are about to leave her mouth.

"Robin, would you and Roland like to move in with us?" she asks him then.

"I already said yes, papa! Regina asked me yesterday," Roland pipes up from the pile of crumpled wrapping paper he's buried himself under. They both laugh at his intervention, and then Robin is back to looking at her, his eyes holding the most tender, loving spark in them as he kisses the beautiful smile she gives him before he speaks.

"We'd love to."

* * *

 

That night, when the boys have fallen asleep while camping in their blanket forts down in the living room, and Robin and Regina are back upstairs in her - _their-_ room, he picks up where they left off that morning, but it's gentle this time, and they savor every minute of it,.

"Are you…" she asks when he drops kisses down her throat, "sure... oh!... about moving?"

He stops despite the pleasured gasps that escape her, and he looks into her eyes for a moment.

"I just…" Regina sighs, trying to find the words, "I know how much you love the forest, and you have your men, and it's the only life Roland's ever really known and—" he cuts off her ramblings with a searing kiss to her lips, and then she surrenders to him, to the delicious feeling of him on top of her, to the wonderful sensations he elicits from her body as he runs his hands over her, caressing her breasts, playing with her nipples as he breathes out her name.

His answer to her question comes in the form of a gruff whisper against her ear just as he finally buries himself inside her.

"There's no place else I'd rather be."


	36. Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse. Missing Year Christmas fluff.

"What are you doing, majesty?" a boy's voice asks from below, and Regina turns from her task of hanging mistletoe in the entrance to the castle library to find little Roland staring up at her with wide eyes.

"I'm setting up Christmas," she tells him, knowing exactly what question is coming next.

"What's Christmas?"

"Well," she begins, smiling as she climbs down from the stool she had used to boost herself up and settling on the floor, letting the boy sit on her lap as she speaks and cards her fingers through his curls, "it's a holiday from where I'm… where my son is from. There's snow and cookies and hot cocoa, and a giant tree that you can decorate with lights and baubles and shiny things, and then if you've been a good boy, a very nice old man in a red suit comes by while you sleep and leaves you presents."

Roland's eyes widen comically at the mention of presents, and then he's off her lap and skipping around the library, yapping excitedly about what he'd like his presents to be. He pauses for a moment, though, and stares at her.

"Wait, you said Christmas is from that other world."

"It is."

"And the other day you told Papa that world is closed."

"Yes…" she replies slowly, confused by his reasoning.

"How will I get presents from the nice old man if his world is closed?!"

"Oh, no need to worry about that. Santa, that's his name," she clarifies when he scrunches up his nose at her in question, "he has very special magic, he can get to every world."

"So how come he's never given me presents before? Have I been bad?" he's sad now, she can see that lower lip sticking out at the possibility of not receiving anything from Santa.

"No, you've been a very good boy, Roland, but you didn't know about Santa until now, so you've never written him a letter, have you?"

He shakes his head.

"Well, then how will Santa know what to get you? Come on, help me decorate the tree and then we can write him your letter," she smiles at his excitement as he holds on tightly to her hand and they walk towards the far corner of the library, where a shelf has been removed to make room for the gigantic pine tree she had David cut down the day before. It sits there, ready to be doused in lights and ornaments. She hadn't wanted to celebrate Christmas, had wanted every reminder of Henry to stay locked up in her head where she could control them, but then Snow had commented on how much he'd enjoyed Christmas in Storybrooke growing up, and how much he'd be enjoying it now, in New York, and the pain Regina had felt over the realization that her son would be spending their favorite holiday with Emma this year while she remained alone in the Enchanted Forest crippled her, and she had needed something, _anything_ , that would tether her to him. Christmas was their thing, and as much as she knew it would ultimately hurt to have all these decorations and mementos around her, she'd achieved what she'd wanted, she felt connected to Henry, and that was enough for now.

"Majesty, why were you hanging weeds by the door?" Roland asks her when she waves her hand and makes white lights appear on the tree.

"They're not weeds," she tells him with a chuckle, "it's mistletoe. It's a tradition for Christmas, when two people are standing under it, they have to kiss."

Suddenly, she scoops him up and moves towards the door, until the small cluster of leaves is directly above them, "like so," she says before she plants a series of kisses all over his face, and Roland giggles and tries to move his head away from her, but then he's planting a sloppy, wet kiss on her cheek as well, and for the first time since her return to the Enchanted Forest, Regina feels joy. She laughs lightly, putting Roland back down on the floor, only to see him go up again when two strong arms swoop in and grab him by the waist, making him fly up and into his father's chest.

"What's this?!" he asks his son, and Regina is distracted by the sound of his voice, so velvety and soft that she can almost feel it caressing her skin.

"It's a whistle-y-toe!" he says excitedly, and Regina snickers softly, gently corrects his pronunciation of the word, and smiles as Roland goes on to explain Christmas to his father, who seems completely engrossed in the tale, but takes a few seconds to sneak amused glances at Regina.

"And what exactly is the mistletoe for, then, if you already have a tree?" he asks his son, genuine curiosity marking his features.

"Kisses! You have to kiss majesty now because you're both under it, see? It's tradition!" he says, pointing upwards.

"No, no, that's fine," Regina hurries, stepping away from the cocoon they seem to have immersed themselves in.

"Oh, but it's tradition," Robin quips, and she can feel that traitorous blush showing up on her cheeks. Loathe as she is to admit it, the attraction between them has grown since they met in the forest upon their arrival, and she feels that attraction creeping in now, when the possibility of feeling his lips on hers has presented itself.

He surprises her, though, by merely taking her hand and planting a chaste kiss on it, and then he looks into her eyes and tilts his head towards the oblivious little boy now perched on his hip. She understands immediately –that surprises her, too, the way they seem to be so in tune with each other despite the fact that they've practically only just met-, and then she grins mischievously when Roland holds her gaze and asks her what she's thinking.

They don't even have to count or tell each other when to pounce, they just do it, and the attack is in perfect sync, Robin's lips pressing loudly on one of his son's cheeks at the same time that Regina's land on the other, and Roland howls with laughter when his father tickles him where he's holding him. It feels as natural as breathing, for her to be here, enjoying Christmas with them, and that realization thrills and terrifies her all at the same time.

The moment is broken by Little John, who chortles as he walks into the library and takes in the strange décor. Roland wastes no time clambering down from his father's hold and jumping into John's arms, hands gesturing animatedly as he explains Christmas to him. John laughs at the boy's enthusiasm, and then tells him hot cocoa –Roland mentions it more than once during his ramblings- sounds like a grand idea, and coaxes him out of the library to go beg Granny to make some for them, leaving Robin and Regina alone in the vast chamber, staring at the lights on the tree.

"How does it work?" he asks of the lights as he moves closer to them, and Regina tries to explain electricity to him as best she can, then adds "none of that is possible here, though, so it's just my magic this time."

He smiles, shakes his head and turns back to her, eyes sparkling, darkening slightly when she licks her lips nervously.

"So, this mistletoe thing, were you expecting to kiss someone?"

"Oh, not at all," she says with a chuckle, "I just found some out in the woods and figured I might as well use it. I'm starting to think twice about it, though, now that I realize Snow and Charming will probably take every opportunity to make eyes at each other and kiss under it. I don't think I have the stomach for that."

Robin laughs, tells her he agrees, and then moves closer to where she stands. He says nothing, merely stares at her, and at her whispered "what?" he sighs, leaning closer and placing a small wisp of a kiss on the corner of her mouth, his lips ghosting over hers. She's startled, more by the fact that she's letting him do this than she is by the fact that he's doing it, and then he pulls away and the way he's looking at her makes her breath catch.

"Christmas customs must be honored," he breathes, eyes sparkling. She frowns, because that can't be right, she's certain they've moved from under the mistletoe. And sure enough, when she looks up, the sprig is not above them, but rather far to the left of where they're standing. She turns to tell him as much, but never gets to say a word, as his lips land on hers fully this time. It's an innocent kiss, close-lipped, sweet and tender, meant to convey affection, not lust, though she can feel some of that too, in the heat of his skin when he moves his hands up and cups her face as he parts from her, his thumbs rubbing over her cheekbones as the rest of his fingers thread in the long locks she's taken to wearing down today, loose and tumbling over her shoulders.

"Happy Christmas, Regina," is all he says before he lets go of her and walks out of the room, leaving her to stare after him with a dazed smile on her face.


	37. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse variant. Set in season 4B (written before it aired).  
> Regina finds her way back to Robin.

She's made it.

Everything she's done in the past year has led her here, with Emma and Henry by her side, and an amulet to keep Tinkerbell's magic from losing its effects upon leaving their Storybrooke bubble. She had not planned it, had not even dared to believe she could manage this, let alone succeed, but she had.

They never found the author, but the author found them, and had dropped hints and clues and items that would help them on their way, help them free the people trapped in the hat, help them defeat the three scorned witches that had made their way into their world and attempted to destroy it.

In the end, the author had left Regina one last gift, one last item, a black gem resting right on top of the very page she had ripped to shreds at the town line. The picture of them, of the meeting that never was, had sat there, pristine and intact, as if her turning it into pieces and letting them fly away like she did her hope had never happened.

The gem was small, glowing with light as it rested on top of the page. It looked like the author had taken one of the stars from the constellations embedded in the hat and turned it into a solid weight for her to keep in her hand. The second she'd touched it, Regina had known what it could do, had felt the stone's power and the way it wielded it, as the author certainly knew she would.

Recruiting Tinkerbell to help had taken all of two seconds, and with her and her pixie dust as a tether to the town line, Regina had ventured outside Storybrooke, the gem in her hand allowing her to keep the magic of the town with her so that she could return when her mission was complete.

Thanks to the stone, Tinkerbell had been able to project her pixie dust spell past the town line, and they'd followed its glowing trail here, to a dingy bar just two towns over.

The pub is called XXIII, and it's decorated to look like an old tavern. The irony makes Regina roll her eyes, silently cursing the author for having such a sick sense of humor, but then she's at the door, and the sense of deja vu overwhelms her, quickens her shallow breaths. So many years ago, she had done the same, followed a trail of pixie dust to some random pub and found her soul mate, only to run away before she even met him. Today, if Tink's magic had done its thing again, that very same soul mate was sitting inside this other bar, with his lion tattoo on display, maybe sipping a drink, maybe even thinking of her –that's it, that's the one sliver of hope Regina will allow herself to have until this all becomes real- and the love that they shared.

Yes, years ago she'd run away from the possibility of a happy ending with him, and now that she's been given a second chance, now that she's about to believe that for once, things will go her way, she's scared, and she hesitates, turning back and wanting to run, just like she had the first time.

But the first time she'd been alone, now she has Henry and Emma, both looking at her with knowing smiles on their faces as her son gives her an encouraging nudge in the direction of the pub and urges her to enter.

"This is your happy ending, mom, go get it," he says, and she laughs, because in his innocence, he really does think it's that easy for her to simply walk in and see this man she hasn't set eyes on in a year, this man that may have already moved on from their love affair that never got a chance to be, this man that left and took her darkened, hopeful heart with him.

"I don't know if I can," she says to the boy, and Henry frowns at her, scrunches up his nose in a gesture that eerily resembles her even though they don't share genetics.

"It's what you wanted, the author led us here, Robin is inside, now go see him," her son insists, and it's the first time she's heard Robin's name spoken aloud since they embarked on this journey, and somehow the realization that this is actually happening sinks in deeper, and she withdraws her hand from the heavy door she'd been about to push open.

"I'm afraid," she finally admits, and the trembling quality to her voice has Henry hurrying to her and wrapping his arms around her middle in a tight hug.

"I understand, but he loves you, and you deserve to be loved, mom. You deserve to be happy, you just have to believe."

There is so much hope shining in his eyes that she can feel hers watering at the sight. He's asking her to embrace this, to believe in her own redemption, in her happy ending, and so she does. Because she does deserve it, has proved it time and again to herself and everyone else, because Robin is her soul mate, and she is his, because he loved her, because he'd looked into her eyes without a hint of hesitation and he'd _chosen her_.

"Go get 'im, tiger," Emma winks as she loops an arm around Henry's shoulders, "we'll be out here if you need us."

Regina thanks them both, takes a deep breath as she gives the stone to Henry, and walks into the bar after self-consciously fixing her coat.

It takes her a few seconds to find him in the crowd, but then she sees it, the green glow of Tinkerbelle's pixie dust covering him like a halo that only she can see, and her breathing falters as she moves towards him. He's sitting at the bar, sipping a whiskey with his back to her, and there's a pretty blonde waitress trying to flirt with him, and he smiles softly and sends her on her way with a shake of his head, turning back to his drink. The hunch on his shoulders, the defeated way he hangs his head, they are signs that he's miserable, frustrated and sad as she was until this exact moment. Her stomach is in knots, her nerves playing with her sanity until she's right behind him. He feels her presence, or at least _a_ presence, because he starts shaking his head again as he slowly turns to face her.

"I told you, I'm not inter—," the word dies on his tongue, eyes going wide when they find her standing there, smiling shyly at him.

"Not interested, then, huh?" she quips, quoting the statement that seems to have flown right out of his head as he stares and stares at her, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly.

"Regina?" he finally whispers, as if using his voice at regular volume will make her disappear. And she has _longed_ for this, yearned so much for her name to fall from his lips again that she gasps when it happens.

"Hi," she says nervously after taking a few seconds to compose herself, tucking her hair behind her ear as she looks down, then back at him.

He's stunned as he stands from the barstool, closes his eyes and moves his head quickly from side to side, like he's trying to erase the image of her from his mind, then glares at his whiskey like it is the culprit behind his hallucination, and she gives him a watery chuckle and moves just a little closer, enough for her knuckles to brush over his scruffy cheek and assure him through her touch that she really is there.

His hand darts up to hold hers then, and he has yet to utter a word beyond the shocked whisper of her name, and suddenly he's grabbing her face and planting his lips on hers with that same urgency as he had during their tearful goodbye. He pulls back after a moment, then proceeds to drop desperate kisses all over her face, covering her cheeks and brow and nose with them, tears falling from his eyes.

"You're here," he says brokenly as he rests his forehead against hers, and she can't help it, she beams tearfully at him as she nods, and he grins right back as he threads a hand in her hair.

"There it is," he breathes as he stares at her smile, echoing a sentiment long ago confessed during a blissful moment in her vault. He's looking at her like she's a bright light in his sea of darkness, and the way his eyes sparkle with moisture has tears of her own rolling down her cheeks, and they're both a blubbering mess as they whisper sweet nothings to each other and suddenly she's laughing at the silliness of it all.

"Gods, how I've missed you," he says, and his voice is shaky as he holds on to her, his breath shuddering as he pulls her impossibly closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck and dropping kiss after kiss there, humming in satisfaction when her fingers start to play with his hair and scratch lightly at his scalp, and then she listens as he vows over and over that he'll never walk away, never let go.

And he doesn't, not ever again.


	38. Winter Bliss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon verse.  
> Snowball fight.

He ducks, avoiding the snowball right as it whooshes past him and lands on the trunk of a tree just behind him. He laughs now, and Henry growls in frustration.

"Papa! You're a grown-up! Grown-ups are supposed to lose!" Roland complains from where he stands next to Henry, a pouty little scowl on his face.

"Who told you such a thing?!"

"It's the law," Roland says solemnly, and Robin laughs at his son.

"I'm sorry, my boy, but I'm an outlaw, remember?" he says just before he sends another snowball flying and hits Henry square in the chest.

"You know, I can just rat you out to mom," he says once he shakes off the snow from his bulky jacket.

"You wouldn't _dare_ ," Robin gasps, and Henry's devilish smile tells him he's about to win this game in a whole new way.

"Oh moooooooom," he calls out in a sing-song voice, and a few seconds later, she pops out of the house, bundled up and looking utterly adorable as the breeze whips her hair around her face.

"Henry? What is it?"

"Papa won't let us win!" Roland interjects before Henry can reply, and Regina looks down at him and smiles.

"Oh, so Papa's being naughty then, huh?"

"Yes!"

"Well, you know what that means, don't you? Santa won't bring him any presents."

"Ha! You hear that, Papa? You're getting coal for Christmas!" he says excitedly, and Henry groans.

"Mom, he has to let us hit him at least _once_. There's no point to a snowball fight unless both sides get to play," Henry whines.

Regina says nothing, merely looks at Robin and raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, come on," he says, "what fun is there in losing?"

"Boys?" Regina calls out to them as she steps out of the way, and suddenly Henry and Roland are hurling snowballs at him from the pile he'd failed to notice right next to them, and he's covering his face with his hands and laughing as he yells at them to stop.

"Okay, winners get the first batch of gingerbread cookies," and she hasn't even finished her sentence before the boys are darting inside to grab their prize. She chuckles, yells "there's milk in the fridge!" after them and then turns to look at Robin's disgruntled face.

"That was cruel," he accuses, and he's so pouty she can't help but smile as she saunters over to him.

"I wasn't called the Evil Queen for nothing," she replies, and now would be the time for him to comfort her, to tell her she's not that person anymore, but the time where she needed his reassurances on that regard has long passed, and she accepts it, accepts who she was, who she became, who she is now, and she accepts that he loves every single part of her, past and present. There is nothing self-deprecating in the way she reminds him of one of her many personas, not anymore, and he smiles at her as he grabs her waist and pulls her closer.

"It hurt," he whines in her ear, dropping a kiss right under it and making her shiver.

"Serves you right for wanting to humiliate two little boys at their own game," she sasses back as they make their way to the porch, but her voice is husky now, goes lower as he drops a kiss to her jaw.

"I'm on the naughty list, then?" he asks her, the tip of his nose skimming her neck when they stop walking, and the action makes Regina hold on tight to his waist.

"Yes, you definitely are," she breathes against his hair.

"Mmm," he acknowledges, pulling her closer and letting her feel all of him pressed against her thigh. Regina moans into his mouth when his tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip, teeth nipping at it as she rakes her nails up and down his sides under his jacket, "totally worth it."

That makes her pause, pulling away from their embrace to look at him.

"You've spoken of nothing but those gingerbread cookies all day, and now you suddenly don't care that you're not having any?"

"Ah, but you see, I get to have something far tastier than cookies now that the boys are distracted," he says, backing her into the porch railing, and she can feel his fingers dig into her hip as he places open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat.

"Robin," she warns, but then he's covering her jaw in tiny, teasing bites, and she can't help it, she sinks into it, into him, and enjoys every second of it.

"Oh god, not again!" a voice interrupts them, and they jump apart when Henry's groan is heard from just behind them.

"You guys have _got_ to stop doing that when I'm around," he complains through a mouthful of cookie, and Regina is blushing furiously, burying her face in Robin's shoulder as she mutters "sorry, sweetheart," and grows all the more embarrassed when she raises her head and sees her son pointing an accusatory finger at Robin.

"You get two more snowballs for that. In fact, you know what? You both do."

"Excuse me?!" Regina's voice is louder and sharper than she intended, but Henry's smiling mischievously at them.

"Mom… run," he warns before he darts to the small pile of snowballs still in the yard.

They have no time to escape, but they try to anyway, running behind the porch as they laugh, trying to hide from Henry, but one of the snowballs lands on her shoulder blade, another on Robin's arm, and in an instant they're huddled on the floor, making snowballs of their own to throw back at him. When Henry realizes their plan, he calls for Roland, and the little boy comes running out of the house, ready to help his team win again.

It turns into full-on war, and after an hour Robin and Regina are sprawled in the snow, defeated and freezing, with rosy cheeks and huge smiles on their faces.

Roland and Henry are back inside preparing some hot cocoa, but when Regina moves to get up and follow them, Robin holds on to her hand, yanks at it so that she lands half on top of him, his arm snaking around her waist to press her body against his while his other hand cups her face, his lips landing on the tip of her nose.

"Are you happy?" he asks her, and there's a small grin on his face that tells her he knows the answer to that question, but he wants to hear it from her still, and she doesn't mind giving it, doesn't hesitate for a single moment when she whispers "I am," and then surrenders to his lips and his love and that unbelievable joy she feels whenever she looks into his eyes.


	39. Getting Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: The Merry Men sort of adopt Regina after Robin leaves town with Marian.

She's sitting alone in The Rabbit Hole nursing the last of her whiskey when he approaches her. She tries to shake him off, fires some off-handed comment to offend him, hoping he'll leave.

"That's not gonna work on me, your majesty," he tells her in his strange accent, and Regina grinds her teeth in annoyance.

"I don't have the patience to deal with you –or anyone- right now, please just leave me alone."

"Just want to buy you a drink, is all."

"Because you pity me?"

"Because I've been where you are, and I know how much it hurts."

"I doubt you've ever been where I am, Will Scarlet, don't pretend to know me."

"You're wondering if being good was worth all this trouble, if doing the right thing is really what should dictate your life when clearly it's never gotten you anywhere good, and above all you hate yourself because you _know_ you'll continue doing the right thing no matter how much you want to stop, because it's what Robin would've wanted."

She stares at him, dumbfounded that he can pinpoint her predicament so well, and he shrugs, offers her the second glass of whiskey that's now been placed next to his, and tells her he's been in a similar situation before. They clink their glasses, and spend the rest of the night drinking in companionable silence.

A week later, it is Little John who approaches her, asks her how she's doing.

"I don't have time for your pity," she barks back, and he laughs.

"He said you were stubborn," he comments, and then walks next to her until they reach Granny's, where she meets her son and John continues on his way, throwing a wave over his shoulder and telling her she's welcome to visit the camp whenever she wants.

Three days after that, Tuck echoes the invitation, and two days after _that_ , Alan says the same thing.

She doesn't take them up on it until a few days later, when she's cleaning out her vault and finds Robin's green scarf on the floor, hidden in the shadows in a corner of the room that had seen their love stripped bare. She walks to the Merry Men's camp holding the scrap of fabric, and when she arrives, she says nothing, merely stands there and looks at the men. It is Tuck who ventures closer, takes her by the elbow and leads her to Robin's old tent, telling her to take as long as she needs. He leaves her there, and it feels strange, like she's mourning, which she shouldn't be, because he's not dead, just gone, but the feeling is there, that gut-wrenching feeling of losing someone forever, and as she runs her fingers over the few possessions he left behind and takes in the woodsy scent of him that still surrounds the tent, she crumbles, falls down on her knees and cries silently, clutching his scarf to her chest. That is how John finds her, and she refuses to acknowledge his presence, but he sinks down next to her and puts his arm around her anyway.

"We miss him, too," he says, and somehow that just makes her cry harder, until finally, she lets him hug her, lets him run his hand up and down her back soothingly, until her sobs have died down and her tears have dried on her face, and even then, she breathes heavily and her hands tremble as she pushes off the man and tries to get up.

"Come back anytime, you don't need to talk to us or even acknowledge us if you don't feel like it, but we want you to know you have a place here. You're part of this family, your majesty," he says as he watches her reach the entrance of the tent, and she turns to him as she pushes the heavy fabric aside.

"Call me Regina," she whispers before she leaves.

It's a week of quiet, weepy visits to his tent before she agrees to join the men for dinner by the fire one night, and she sits with them and shares their ale and bread and she can almost forget that Robin isn't here, the contagious merriment of his friends seeping into her from time to time, making her think he's still around, probably playing with Roland somewhere in the forest.

* * *

 

It's been almost a month, and Regina realizes she's been spending more time at the camp than she has at her own house. She brings Henry along sometimes, and he's fascinated by the stories the men have to tell, asking for detail after detail and beaming as he hears of their daring feats and their run-ins with the law.

"Mom, it's even better than the movies!" he tells her excitedly, and she ruffles his hair and lets him go back to John, who is pitching a tent for him to stay overnight when he so wishes.

One day, when she chooses to have lunch with them rather than dinner and stays for the afternoon, John and Alan take to teaching her archery, and she fumes when Will taunts her for her lack of aim, then she laughs with the rest of the men when at last, her arrow hits its target, which just so happens to have been his butt. They celebrate her with drinks and even get her to dance to some of the songs of the men from the forest.

She's never had friends like these, and she revels in their companionship, in the way they take her and Henry in like they've always been part of their tight-knit little family. She takes them bowling, teaches them the game and then laughs at their horrid attempts to knock down the pins. They try to teach her to climb trees, but she's terrible at it, and they mock her when she falls on the earth floor over and over again, pine needles and dry leaves in her hair. She bakes them cookies, tries to teach John how to make them, but he burns them all and nearly burns down her kitchen as well.

"Maybe I should just stick to eating them," he tells her sheepishly, and Henry claps him on the back, tells him that's what he's done as well, and they laugh as Regina starts a new batch.

Some nights they don't give her a chance to escape her heartache, telling her things about Robin that make her cry, like how the day he chose her was the happiest they'd seen him in ages, how they'd tease him about his lovesick puppy eyes when he wasn't paying attention to the conversation because he was too busy thinking about her. They tell her stories of Roland growing up, of Robin's hilarious escapades when he was younger, of his atrocious singing voice and terrible ways to court the ladies, of how Roland had a crush on her and was a little jealous when she picked his father, but above all, they tell her how much they both love her, how much they would gush about her, even in the Enchanted Forest, where she was nothing but cruel to Robin, they say, he'd come to them after a council meeting and regale them with tales of her beauty and her sass and her strength.

They go on long walks and hikes around the forest, surreptitiously trying to find a way out of the Snow Queen's barrier (though no one actually mentions that's what they're doing) and then they drink together when they can't achieve their goal.

One day, at Henry's insistence, she invites them over to her manor, cooks lasagna for them and basks in their praise of her cooking. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that Will has commandeered Henry's laptop, but thinks nothing of it, merely assuming he's catching up on emails and browsing through social media. He's the only one who has lived in this world long enough to understand technology, and has probably gone without it for quite a while now that he's spending his time in a tent in the forest.

As the men shout their goodbyes, Regina finishes up cleaning the kitchen and goes to the foyer, where only John and Tuck remain, playing cards with Henry, while Will is still typing away at the computer.

"I didn't take you for an Internet junkie," she jokes, and he gives her a half smirk, then returns his attention to the screen while she pours tea for the others and tries to help her son beat the thieves at poker.

Days later, Will is at their place, where he seems to be spending most of his time now, fiddling with the laptop again, Henry at his side.

"That's not how you do it, you have to click here," he tells him.

"Oi! I know what I'm doing, lad!" he replies.

"Doesn't look like it."

She's used to their banter by now, finds it comforting to hear them bicker as she prepares dinner, but then she hears them cheer and slap their hands together in celebration, and wonders what they've achieved that makes them stop fighting.

"I think you ought to come have a look at this, your majesty!" Will calls out to her, and she pokes her head out of the kitchen and raises an eyebrow as she walks towards them.

"If it's another one of those cat videos, Will Scarlet, I swear I'll—" her breath leaves her the second she sets eyes on the screen, and surely she must be imagining it, this cannot be. But it is, and it's perfectly logical, she knows that, knows the technology of this world is something he would get the hang of eventually, but she'd never allowed herself to think that they could see each other again, not even through video calls, yet there he is, his beautiful face taking up the screen, dimples on full display as he smiles, blue eyes shining with tears as he drinks in the sight of her, his voice gruff when he whispers the first words she's heard from him in over a month.

"Hello, Regina."


	40. Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Robin finds Polaroid nudes of Regina

He takes one last look at the road, where he knows his home and his happiness now stands, even if he can't see her, and then he leaves, his son in his arms and Marian walking next to them. They walk, they walk for what feels like years, though his former wife (yes, former, because he'd meant what he'd said to Regina, keeping his vow to Marian would be living a lie, and he refused to do that) quietly informs him it's only been an hour, and finally, there's lights and a small building a few steps away. They reach the diner, book a room with two beds at the small inn right next to it, and start preparing a strategy for their new life, but Robin's heart isn't in it, in any of this, he's left it back in Storybrooke, in the hands of a woman so strong and bright and beautiful that he doesn't imagine his world without her. He's missed her every second he's been away, and he knows it'll be like this from now on, always pain, always her absence crashing over him like a tidal wave, no matter how much time goes by.

Roland is hungry, and Marian proposes they go down to the diner and have something to eat together, but Robin begs off, claiming a headache, and watches his son hold his mother's hand as they make their way out of the room and back down to get their food. When he's sure he's alone, he punches the wall, lets tears fall and breaths get heavier and heavier and then there's this panic gripping him, this need to hold Regina tight and pepper kisses all over her skin, but he can't. She's gone.

Suddenly the temperature in the room is too much, even when it's cold and windy outside. He feels himself sweating, and removes his jacket as fast as he can, dumping it on the floor and not noticing that something spills out from one of the hidden inside pockets until a few minutes later, when his panic has subsided and he bends to pick it up. He squints as he sets eyes on the glossy paper, and then sinks to his knees and grabs the pictures, six or seven of them, one is of him, shirtless and staring straight at the camera with a curious smile on his face, the rest are all of Regina, naked in the bed she'd conjured for them in her vault, and then the memories assault him.

__He's walking around the cramped space, a momentary reprieve from their activities, staring at all the artifacts and nick-knacks she's stored down here over the years._ _

" _ _What is this?" he asks as he grabs the strange contraption from the shelf.__

" _ _I told you not to touch anything," she chastises instead, and he shrugs with a sheepish smile, walking back to the bed and bringing the small machine-like thing with him.__

" _ _You also told me to stay away from you, I think it's best I don't heed your commands ever again," he jokes, leaning in and planting a quick kiss on her lips. She grins in response, and then takes the item from his hands.__

" _ _It's called a camera," she explains, "it takes pictures… they're a bit like the portrait paintings from our world, but better, and faster, and you don't have to stand still for eight hours."__

__She proceeds to explain how photo cameras work, taking his hand and slowly, sensually, dragging it across the bits and pieces of the camera, her voice low and velvety in the empty quiet of the cavernous room, "a Polaroid, like this one," she explains, "produces the photos instantly, so all you have to do is focus this lens on the image you want, then push this button, and then it prints it."_ _

__She then surprises him by raising the camera and snapping a picture of him, the flashing light from the top right hand corner of the machine blinding him, and in the few seconds it takes him to adjust his eyes again, she's waving a small rectangle of glossy paper with his face imprinted on it._ _

" _ _That's incredible," he gapes, then takes the camera and focuses the lens on her. She tries to hide under the covers, but he puts an arm out to stop her.__

" _ _You're beautiful, don't hide from me," he says, and she smirks.__

" _ _You want nude photos of me?" she asks with a raise of her eyebrow, and he kisses her smirk away as he momentarily forgets about the camera, leaves it on the bed between them, and brings his hand up to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and nibbles at it, his tongue licking and exploring. At her moan, he draws back and grabs the device again, pointing it at her.__

" _ _Please?" he asks, and she looks into his eyes for a moment, unsure, but then nods and stretches her arms above her head and over the pillows, one leg bent at the knee, breasts on full display, her face glowing and sated, skin flushed from the exertion of just minutes ago, when he'd made her come again and again on his mouth, his fingers, his cock. He becomes obsessed with documenting her form, and she laughs lightly at his excitement as he takes picture after picture, all in different angles, so that every inch of her, every crevice his hands and tongue have explored, is shown in the paper, and suddenly he has his own small collection of photos of the woman he loves, bare and free, nipples tight with the sexual tension of the moment, eyes dark as she stares up at him. It's all the encouragement he needs, and he shoves the pictures in the innermost hidden pocket of his jacket that lies on the floor next to his pants, returns the camera to where he found it, and jumps back into the bed, hands eager and mouth watering at the very idea of tasting her again.__

He stares at the pictures now, marveling at how he's been walking with them in his pocket for days without knowing, wondering how he could've possibly forgotten about them, and he breathes in and out as he remembers her, her touch, her smell, the delicious, intoxicating flavor of her, the softness of her lips, and he yearns for her more than he's ever yearned for anything in his life.

When Marian and Roland come back into the room, he's gone, a note on the bed letting them know he'll be back in a couple of hours, and while he doesn't say where he's going, he knows Marian will guess, and he knows she'll allow him as much time as he needs, so once he reaches the place he'd last seen Regina, he doesn't rush, lingers by the imaginary town line and sits in the middle of the road, looking at the empty space before him and smiling sadly as he recalls every single moment of their time together.

After a while, he grabs a small rock from nearby, heavy enough to use as a paper weight, and takes out the pen and the envelope he snatched from the Inn's stationary before he left. He scribbles her name on the back of it, scrawls a simple __I miss you__  on the back of the picture she'd taken of him and places it inside, then tucks the closed envelope under the rock, leaves it right there on the floor, and walks back to the inn. When he returns the next day, the envelope is gone, and the day after that, there's a small box on the pavement by the town line. He opens it with trembling hands and finds her ring, the white gold ring with the bright, square-shaped emerald that she never takes off, a note in her elegant writing nestled under it.

__I miss you, too._ _


	41. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set on the eve of their wedding.

She senses him before she sees him, feels him sneak under the duvet and wrap his arms around her, shuffling her body closer to his warmth, her silk-clad back to his bare chest.

"You're not supposed to be here," she murmurs with a smirk.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," he says, making no comment on his stealthy attempts at breaking the adamant rule they're supposed to be keeping to for the night.

"Mary Margaret is gonna have a fit if she sees you wandering around her apartment," Regina tries again, still lying on her side, her smile hidden in the darkness.

"You know, for a kindhearted princess, she sure can be a pestering little tyrant. Besides, I'm not wandering about her apartment, I'm in her guest room, cuddled in bed with my wife-to-be."

Regina laughs as she flicks on the bedside lamp and turns in his arms, resting her chin on his chest as she looks up at him.

"You're still mad at her for earlier, aren't you?" she asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

"It was __our__  rehearsal dinner, __we__  are the ones getting married in the morning, I should be allowed to dance with you at whatever time I damn well please," he huffs, making her giggle against his chest as she plants a kiss there.

"If your wanting to veer out of our 'scheduled dance time' had her screaming at you, imagine how she'll get when she sees you here come morning," Regina tells him, "the groom isn't supposed to see the bride before the wedding."

"I'm not scared of our self-appointed wedding planner's wrath, my love," he counters, "let her yell at me all she wants. I spent a long time away from you, I'm not about to waste another night without you in my arms."

She's moved by his words, by the way his hold tightens on her as they both take a moment to remember the agony of being apart, of having nothing but a tearful goodbye at the town line and a pile of memories as proof of the love that tied them together.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispers at last, voice trembling as the pain shakes her, and Robin kisses her brow and brings her even closer to him, running his hand up and down her back under the covers when she shivers.

They talk for a while, laughing softly at the memories from earlier that day, Roland tripping over his own feet and dropping the rings while walking down the aisle, making him giggle his way through the rest of the rehearsal, Henry giving Robin a talking-to, warning him that he better treat his mother right or else.

She has no idea what time it is when they fall asleep, but she wakes the next morning feeling refreshed and fully rested, the scent of him coaxing her from slumber as he presses kisses to her neck and nuzzles his nose in her hair.

"Mm, good morning," she rasps against his shoulder.

"Well, look who's finally woken up," he teases, ducking his head to land a small peck on the tip of her nose, "happy wedding day."

"You're ridiculous," she tells him, though there isn't any bite behind her words, only a silly smile that she hides against his skin as she closes her eyes and lays her head back down on his chest.

"Regina?" he asks after a few silent minutes, when she's too cozy to move and the sound of his heartbeat has almost lulled her back to sleep.

"Hmm?"

"I'm marrying you today," he says against her hair, and she opens her eyes then, looks up and finds his dimples as he flashes her the brightest and biggest of smiles.

"Yes, I believe you are," she replies with a laugh.

Robin grins down at her as he captures her lips in his, and she lets herself sink into him, sighing and giving in to his tender touch until...

"Rise and shine!" someone yells as the door to her room opens, "are you ready to be a bri— ROBIN!" Snow's outrage is so great it's almost comical, and Regina sinks her face into the crook of his neck as she snickers and mutters an __I told you so__  into his skin.

"Good morning, Princess," he says casually, hugging Regina closer, "would you give us a moment?"

"You are __not__  supposed to be here! The whole point of Regina spending the night at my loft is so __you__  wouldn't see her before the wedding! Do you __want__  bad luck for your marriage?! What is wrong with you?! How did you even get __in__  here?! I locked the door last night!"

"Thief," Robin says by way of explanation as he shrugs at her, completely unfazed by her anger, which makes Mary Margaret fume even more as she stalks over to them and yanks the covers off.

"Hey!" Regina protests.

"Get out," their wedding planner barks at Robin, stretching an arm out and pointing to the door. He smirks, takes Regina's hand in his and kisses the small diamond ring he placed there three months ago, the one that hasn't left her finger since the moment he asked her to be his forever.

"I'll see you in a bit, Mrs. Locksley," he tells her as he winks and moves to leave the room, a silly grin on his face that Regina is sure is mirrored in her own as she pulls on his hand to bring him closer, plants another kiss on his lips, and watches him go.

When he's gone and she's had a few seconds to stretch on the bed, she turns to address a still very exasperated Mary Margaret, who stands by the closet door with her arms crossed, glaring at her as she taps her foot on the floor impatiently.

"Alright, you maid of honor from hell," she says with an amused smile, "let's do this."


	42. Archery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Archery Lessons (OQ Week 2015)  
> Set in the Missing Year

Her body feels warm, and it has nothing to do with the heavy layers of her lavish gown and everything to do with the handsome thief poised behind her with his hand on her arm, helping her aim the arrow he's just helped her lodge into his bow.

"Right, now you pull it back," he murmurs in her ear, his voice the only thing disrupting the calm and quiet of the early morning in the castle gardens.

She moves her arm back to draw the arrow, but she does it a little too fast, landing her elbow on his face, and she instantly drops the weapon and puts both her hands on his face, apologizing repeatedly.

"I wasn't thinking, I'm so sorry, I—" he stops her with a kiss, and it startles her, because he's never done that before. Yes, there's been a few appraising looks, a few soft touches, and then there's the smile he gets when he sees her play with his son, but he's never been this bold with her, never acted on the attraction she knows he feels for her. Not until now.

"What was that for?" she asks him in a breathy voice when they part, and the sweet taste of his lips lingers on her tongue.

"Seemed like a good way to stop your unnecessary apology," he shrugs in a whisper, "and you're quite endearing when you're all flustered," he flirts.

"I am __not__  endearing, I'm the queen, the __Evil__  Queen," she spits back, but she knows there's no way she's fooling him, not with the silly smile she feels breaking out on her face.

"Yes, very evil, the scariest, most evil queen there ever was," he teases, running the back of his index finger down her cheek, "and yet you can't shoot an arrow to save your life."

She whacks at his arm then, blames her lack of skill on him with a raise of her eyebrow.

"Maybe you're just a lousy teacher."

"Excuse me, I taught all my men how to shoot. The prince even put me in charge of teaching the army's new recruits," he defends as he draws closer, resting a hand on her waist.

"Oh, and do you also kiss all these recruits when you give them archery lessons?" she has no idea why the hell she's flirting with him like this, doesn't know what possesses her to do it, but it feels good, a welcome contrast to the somber mood she's been in since she landed back in this place, forced to wonder down the drafty corridors of her old castle without her son, without her little prince.

"No, I don't. The only one I want to kiss is you, Regina," he says vehemently, and the sincerity of his words moves her, has her leaning in for a quick peck, or so she tells herself, but as soon as their lips touch, she is swept away by the pleasant tingle he ignites in her, winds her arms around his middle and lets him move his up and down her back as his tongue comes out to taste her.

They part with heavy breaths after a few minutes, and he smirks at her, says nothing as they go back to their lesson.

And if they kiss again when she finally manages to hit the target, if he ends up in her chambers that night, and every night after that, until the ache in her chest is slightly quelled by the feeling of his mouth on her, well, no one needs to know about that, do they?


	43. Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Archery Lessons (OQ Week 2015)  
> Second contribution for the same prompt. This one's a little naughtier ;)

"You're delusional," she says, point-blank.

"Come on."

"No."

"Regina," he begs.

"No."

"Please?"

"Why are you so fixated on this?" she asks in frustration as she paces the small space inside his tent.

"Because I know you can do it!"

"I think we've proved that I can't."

"Come on, one more try… please?" He's got the puppy dog eyes and dimpled pout on display, knows she's unable to resist that face. "For me?" he adds, and oh that is __not__  fair. This man should not be allowed to have such an effect on her.

But he loves her, and she loves him, so of course she'll do it, because she's head over heels for him, because she'll do anything to bring about that bright smile he's giving her now as she nods her head in exasperated acceptance of his proposal.

"But if I injure someone again, it's your fault," she warns.

"Regina, there was no force behind your shot, that arrow didn't even leave a scar on John's leg."

"I don't care, if I shoot and it lands on somebody instead of the target, it's on you."

"Fair enough," he says with an amused chuckle.

They head outside, to a far enough clearing in the woods so as to avoid wounding anyone nearby. Robin has his bow in hand, quiver full of arrows slung over his shoulder, and Regina is walking slowly behind him, trying to stall as much as possible. He takes her hand when they reach a spot in the clearing he deems proper, plants a kiss on her knuckles and asks her to set up while he finds an easy enough target. She takes off her shoes ("as sexy as your boots are, they mess up your balance, my love, it can hinder your performance," he'd said the first time they'd tried this), takes the bow he's left on the floor at her feet, and lets her hand get the feel of it, reacquaints herself with the object before grabbing an arrow from the quiver.

He's looking at her with dark eyes and teeth biting his bottom lip when he returns, takes a moment to hover his hot mouth over her ear and whisper how arousing it is to see her with bow and arrow in hand. Regina raises an eyebrow, huffs and tells him __now__ she knows why he insisted so much on continuing these futile lessons.

"Futile? I seem to recall a very, uh… productive night, the last time we did this?" he mutters in her ear, and she's instantly assaulted with memories of his hands on her naked body, his tongue on her nipple and his cock inside her as he slammed her body against a tree, the lustful whispers against her neck of how much he liked watching her handle his weapon…

"Are we here to practice archery or are you trying to seduce me?" she asks then as she drops the bow and arrow to the floor. She's trying to sound stern, maybe even a little bit offended, but there's a breathy quality to her voice that betrays her, lets him know she's just as turned on by this whole thing as he is, and his hand creeps up her thigh from where he stands behind her, dips into the waistband of her pants.

"A little bit of both, if you're willing, milady," he rasps, fingers finding her slick and __most__   _ _definitely__ willing, but she wraps her hand around his arm, pulls it out of her pants and away from her, and turns to face him with a mischievous smirk on her face.

"Do you want me, Robin?" she rasps as she pulls him closer and licks a trail up his throat.

"Yes," he says, swallowing as she continues to suck a line of kisses down his neck and shoulder, and she has missed him so much, yearned for him the moment he stepped over the town line and away from her, has wanted nothing more than to feel him, to bask in the effect she has on him, to revel in his moans and gasps as she explores the planes of his body with her tongue. They'd been apart for way too long.

"Then have me," she murmurs, earning a groan from him when she bites gently on his earlobe, "but only after I've hit the target with that arrow."

She pulls back then, giggling in amusement at the frustrated sigh he gives her.

"Regina," he whines.

"You're the one who said I could do this, though I'm still fairly sure it won't happen. Prove me wrong, and __then__  you can have your way with me," she offers, seductive smile in place as her fingers walk their way up his arm.

"Oh, is that how it's going to be?" he asks.

"Afraid of a challenge, outlaw?" she jests.

"Not at all, your majesty," he replies with a smirk, and then he moves her, positions her right in front of him, both of them standing sideways to the target he's set up a few paces ahead. He waits for her to grab the bow, to find the proper grip for her hands on the smooth wooden arch, and then he places the arrow, lets her slowly draw the string back with it.

"You're too rigid," he mutters softly in her ear, "relax your shoulder."

His hand moves to said shoulder then, a warm weight on her to calm her, steady her, and she can __feel__  the tension leaving her as he blows hot air on the back of her neck, plants a tiny kiss there.

"Okay, now bring your hand to your mouth, align the corner of it with the nock, that's it," he coaxes as she does as she's told, feeling the feathery fletching of the arrow graze her cheek. His lips are there, too, kissing just under her ear, hands grasping her waist to keep her position firm.

"Alright," he continues, "keep both your eyes open," he says when he notices she's subconsciously shut one of them, "take a deep breath, and when you exhale, let go."

Regina does exactly as he says, lets the arrow fly, but doesn't check to see if she's hit the target, only turns around and pounces on him. Because she doesn't care anymore whether she's outwitted him or not, whether she's won this little game they've got going. No, all she cares about now is the feel of him, of his hands on her body, his lips on her own. All she cares about is the way he gasps out her name, the way he whispers __I love you__ s into her skin in between kisses, and most of all, the way his voice breaks as he tells her over and over again how much he's missed her.


	44. Fatherly Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina has a talk with Marco. Based on a lovely scene they shared in season 4.

Telling Henry about the mission Mary Margaret has entrusted her with is out of the question, she knows that, and she knows that she has to pretend to be okay, that she has to act like nothing is out of sorts besides the usual, because if her very intuitive son gets even an inkling of her turmoil, he'll ask questions, and she can't bring herself to lie to him outright. That said, if she can't talk to the only person she has left who truly believes in her, then who _can_ she talk to?

She's walking alone down the street, in the rain, not caring that she's shivering, the cold droplets mixing with the hot tears that fall down her cheeks in frustration. Damn Mary Margaret for telling her that secret, damn the Charmings for dragging her into this, for insisting she do their dirty work for them (she knows that's not really their intention, but right now she's frustrated, angry that she has to force herself back into her old habits when she'd already been having a hard enough time remaining on the side of good).

"Is everything alright?" a strange voice asks her, and she turns to find Marco staring at her worriedly from the gate of his shop. She hadn't realized her feet had carried her here, but she's somewhat relieved to find the old man, somewhat put at ease by the kind look he gives her as he beckons her closer.

"I'm fine," she tells him, a smile gracing her lips, but it's so small and pathetic that she knows she won't fool him, knows he'll be able to see the tear streaks on her cheeks and the redness of her eyes when she approaches, so she ducks her head down, hiding her face under her hair.

"I'll tell you what, I'm going to put the kettle on, and set a second teacup next to mine. If you want to talk, just come in and join me," he tells her kindly in that endearing accent of his, and then he turns, walks back inside and leaves the door open for her, clearly hoping she'll follow.

Regina has no idea what exactly pushes her to do it, but after a deep breath she's walking inside, shrugging off her wet coat and scarf and sitting in the small kitchen counter while Marco pours hot water on two china cups and drops a teabag in each, handing one to Regina without really looking at her. She takes a sip as he sits in the stool next to her, clutching his cup with both hands as he looks at the steam rising from it, and then he waits.

"I've been asked to do something that could… compromise my progress."

"How so?"

"I'm not allowed to disclose the details, but suffice it to say that Snow has asked me to do something very difficult, something I'm not sure I have the strength to do."

"Have you told the princess of your concerns?" the old man asks.

"No, but I'm sure she can guess," she tells him, and wonders, not for the first time, why he seems to care so much about her, especially after her display from yesterday.

"And still she asked you to do this?"

"You know her, she always sees the best in people, she probably believes I'm better than this, that it won't affect me like I think it will, but…" she trails off, gauging his reaction. She's given him enough information for him to understand that what she's being asked to do is play the role of villain once again, and that she's afraid of what the consequences of that might be for her.

It's true, she has changed, she knows that, but she also knows that power is addictive, that the quick-fire way evil has of helping one achieve victory (short-lived as though it might be) has a way of seducing even the purest of souls, and hers is far from pure, has tasted the darkness as surely as she has the cup of Earl Grey Marco's given her, and she's scared, terrified even, that as much as she's worked to be a good person, it won't be enough once she reverts to her old ways, even if it is for show.

"Your majesty," Marco says then, his warm hand on hers coaxing her out of the dark pit of worries she's trapped in, "it matters not what others believe you to be, it matters what __you__  believe you to be."

"Funny," she says sarcastically, "I've always thought it was the other way around."

"Well, you see, from my knowledge, people's belief can give you strength, sure," he confirms, "but if __you__  don't really believe you can do something, then all the trust in the world from others won't do you an ounce of good."

"So you're saying I should back out?" Regina asks, bewildered, "tell Snow I can't help her?"

"I never said that," Marco clarifies, "merely that you take inventory of your strengths, your weaknesses, and decide on your own, without letting anyone's opinion of you be a factor, whether you can truly do what's being asked of you without losing yourself."

"I… I don't know what to do," she says, and she feels embarrassed at the way her voice breaks when she speaks. Marco moves closer then, plants a hand on her back and pats it gently, taking a sip from his tea and urging her to do the same with hers. She obeys, gulps a tiny bit of the soothing liquid, then another, and rests her cup back on the counter.

"You find a way to protect the people you love… it's what you've always done, even when your methods aren't altogether pleasant," he tells her with a tender smile and a glint in his eye. She grins in return, then looks back at her cup, takes a few more sips of her tea, and sets it down again.

"Thank you, Marco," she says in a low murmur when she's at his door again, preparing to leave, and she chokes a little on the words, her goodbye raspy and far more broken than she'd expected. She hadn't realized how much she missed her father, missed having someone to offer a friendly ear and elderly wisdom through kind eyes and soft pats on her shoulder.

"My door is open anytime, your majesty," he tells her with a tilt of his head.

She walks away, wrapping her coat a little tighter around herself now that the rain has given way to a chill in the air, but before she's set foot on the sidewalk that leads away from his shop, she turns, offers him a smile and whispers a request.

"Please, call me Regina."

* * *

 On the days where pretending to be evil starts cracking her resolve to never go back to the real thing, on the instances her mission starts to overwhelm her, she goes to him, sits by his counter and sips tea with him, listens to his stories of Pinocchio growing up in the Enchanted Forest, of the difference between raising him there and raising him here, listens to tales of Marco's own childhood, of the times Archie (or rather, Jiminy) steered him away from dangerous or embarrassing situations.

Not all their talks are amicable. Sometimes she gets testy with him, the stress of her day wearing on her, but he's always kind, always gentle, always offering a smile and more tea, always waiting for her to be the one to tell him what's bothering her, without any prodding from him. She doesn't, she can't, but she finds that their meetings soothe her, bring her back from the edge of the abyss of darkness on which she balances herself every day when she acts the villain. His soft voice and his reassurances help her drain her stress, help her go back to her son with a smile on her face, and when the Queens of Darkness have been vanquished, when things have once again slowed down and it feels like she can finally get her life back on track, it is Marco who encourages her to do so.

"Regina, what is it that you want, more than anything else in the world?" he asks her one afternoon, when she tells him how much she misses a certain thief and his adorable son.

"I just want to be happy," she says in a broken whisper after she considers how much to disclose in her answer. Marco smiles.

"Then _ _be__  happy, my dear. Go find your archer fellow, and that boy of his, I'm sure they miss you just as much as you miss them."

"This Author has it out for me, if I find Robin, if I go to him, what's to say we don't end up separated and heartbroken again? Villains don't get happy endings, and that's what I am in the book."

"Regina, do you believe yourself to be a villain still?"

"No, but what I believe doesn't matter."

"That's where you're wrong, my child. I told you once, it doesn't matter what others believe you are, but what __you__  believe you are. Forget what the book says about you, forget what everyone thinks of you, it only matters what __you__  think, what you know yourself to be."

"It's not that simple."

"Fine. Let's do it your way. Tell me, does this Robin think of you as evil?"

"No, he never did," she answers with a fond smile on her face. "He knows who I used to be, but he… he believes in me, he loves me. __All__  of me," there are tears building in her eyes as she talks, and Marco's hand makes its practiced way to her own, squeezing her fingers in reassurance, the gesture now a staple of their afternoon tea sessions.

"Then surely, that must count for something," he says. "You'll never find your happiness if you let yourself dwell on __what if__ s, Regina."

It's not a hope speech, but it flicks on that tiny ray of hope inside her all the same, has her packing up a bag and asking Emma to go with her in search of her happy ending.

And when she finds him, when his lips land on hers desperately, his hands holding on to her as if he'd rather die than let her go again, she finds that Marco is right. Screw the Author, and everyone else who thinks she doesn't deserve this. Because __this__ , his love for her and hers for him, it's good, it's __right__ , and that is all that matters.


	45. Involuntary Cuddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trope: sharing a bed/blanket

"You can't be serious!" Regina exclaims when the thief has made his proposition.

"It's either that or we die in the cold, milady."

They're alone in the forest, lost on their way back to the castle from the expedition Snow had sent them on. A storm is about to break, and they've found a small cave where they can hide for the night, but the cold is bitter, ever present, and her teeth chatter as the first drops start to fall. She knows he's right (and oh, how she hates it when he's right), they could die if they don't keep warm, and right now, when Zelena's simian spies are roaming the forest and lighting a fire isn't an option, sharing body heat is probably the one thing that will keep them alive during the night.

"Fine!" she snaps with a roll of her eyes, conjuring a cot small enough to fit in the cave and a few blankets for them to bury themselves under, "But if you try anything, I'm frying you, stealth and flying monkeys be damned."

He moves closer to her, looking right into her eyes with that damn __smirk__  that does things to her, and murmurs "Don't worry, your majesty, I'll be perfectly chaste," adding "unless you don't want me to be," under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear and throw a glare his way, but he only raises his hands in defeat, makes a serious promise to behave himself, and goes about pulling the last scraps of bread and cheese he has in his satchel, setting them in a cloth with some berries he found in a bush just outside the cave and handing it to her before setting up a portion of food for himself.

At some point, he dribbles berry juice over his chin as he chews, and when she points it out and he tries to clean it off, he ends up smearing it more, even staining the white linen sleeve of his shirt, making her lips tug at the corners as she fights a grin.

"Ugh, here, let me," she finally says, wiping his chin with the hem of her coat, huffing in mock exasperation over his lack of decorum. She's seen him eat at the castle dining room (and she will never __ever__  admit that it's because she __likes__ looking at him), knows he has better table manners than this. She tells him as much, and the answer he gives her has butterflies fluttering in her belly.

"Making a fool of myself seems to make you smile. I find I quite like making you smile. If covering my face in berry juice is what it takes, so be it."

She rolls her eyes, but loses the fight against that grin she'd been trying to hold back, and resumes eating as she stares down at her meal.

They finish their dinner in silence, one that can almost be considered comfortable, if it weren't for the way he keeps __looking__  at her.

"What?!" she finally barks at him.

"Nothing," he begins, "it's just… you've a stunning smile, your majesty."

"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, thief."

"I'm not trying to __get__ anywhere. I was only paying a beautiful woman a well-deserved compliment."

"Well, stop it."

"Why?"

"Because it's inappropriate."

"How so?"

"Just shut up, Robin," she says in frustration, looking up from her food to find him beaming at her.

" _ _Now__  what?"

"You called me by my name."

"So?" she tries to pass it off as something ridiculously mundane, completely ignoring the little thrill that runs through her when she makes him smile like that.

"Nothing, just making an observation," he says, raising his hands in surrender.

When the last of their food has been consumed and they've made their way to the cot, Regina lies down first, rigid and tense at his proximity when he stretches out next to her and throws the blankets over them, but he keeps his hands to himself like he promised, turning on his side so that his back is to her, wishing her a good night and drifting off in seconds. It takes her longer to fall asleep, too many ghosts plaguing her thoughts, too many memories of her little prince prancing around her mind for her to find any rest amongst them, and when she's sure he's sleeping soundly, she even lets herself shed a few tears, missing her son.

It's the crying that finally gets her drowsy, and when she finally thinks she'll be able to sleep, she feels his body turning towards her, his warm breath washing over the side of her neck as he exhales, his nose so close it's almost nuzzling her. She turns on her side then, using her velvet-clad back as a barrier against him, but it's like there's a magnetic pull between them, and only minutes have passed when she feels his torso press up against her. She should move, should scold him for getting handsy with her as he sleeps (except his arms aren't on her, but rather one bent under his head and the other stretched over his side), but it's a cold night, and the rain has picked up, heavy droplets splashing at the entrance of the tiny cave as the wind gusts wildly in the empty space, making her shiver, and he's so, so warm, she can't help but subtly scoot her body closer, and by the time his arm unconsciously drapes itself over her waist and his nose buries itself in her hair, she's too cozy to fight it, and lets sleep claim her easily instead.

Regina wakes with the sun, the chirping of birds serving as an annoying natural alarm clock that makes her want to break something. Her neck is stiff, her joints achy, but she's warm, __so__ warm, and there's this scent, this wonderful, pine, woodsy scent that envelops her, soothes her, and she burrows closer to the source of it, takes a deep whiff from the linen shirt her hand is fisted in, and then she realizes.

Her eyes fly open, wide and fearful as she looks at the compromising position she's in. For some reason, they'd shifted into each other's arms during the night, and dawn finds her cradled against Robin. He's flat on his back, with the arm closest to her wrapped around her frame, her head pillowed on his shoulder, face nestled into his neck, but instead of hastily extricating herself from his grasp as she should be, she lingers, stares at the way his eyelashes brush against the tops of his cheeks, the way his chest expands under her as he breathes, how the crease on his forehead is smoothed out as he rests peacefully. He's a very attractive man, even if he is a simple thief, and she can't help but like the way his arms tighten around her when he shifts slightly on his side, seeking her warmth, and she figures a few more minutes of this, of being held and feeling cherished by a handsome man won't hurt her, so she huddles closer, tangles an arm over his stomach loosely, and watches him, listens to the steady rhythm of his heart, revels in feeling so safe, so content, if only for a little while.

He stirs a little while later, and she squirms in reaction to the tickling of his breath against her neck. To avoid the embarrassment of him finding out she's fond of his closeness, Regina shuts her eyes, taking a deep breath and stretching a little, as if trying to find a more comfortable position than the one she's currently in. She settles with a hand on his chest, sighing and pretending to be so deep in slumber she doesn't realize her actions.

"Regina? Are you awake?" he whispers hoarsely, but she doesn't reply, merely takes a deep breath to make him think she's still dead to the world. He sighs against her, and she feels his breath tickle the top of her head when he moves further down on the small cot, so he can wrap his arm around her tighter, landing his lips to her brow and keeping them there.

"What the bloody hell are you doing to me?" he murmurs absentmindedly against her skin, chuckling lightly before he finishes planting that lingering kiss on her brow and nestling his cheek against her head.

He makes no move to get out of their warm little cocoon, probably out of fear that she'll wake if he does, and loathe as Regina is to admit it, she's enjoying this, enjoying __him__ , so she continues to pretend sleep, indulges in the feeling of his warm, solid body against hers for just a little while longer.

They rise an hour or so later, say nothing of their sleeping arrangements, and make haste for the castle when Robin finally finds the trail he'd lost the night before.

And over a year later, when she wakes once again tangled in his arms, this time inside her vault in Storybrooke, she smiles, cuddles closer into his embrace, and wonders how on earth she ever lived without it.


	46. Doting Husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Regina is sick, Robin takes care of her.

It's still nighttime when she wakes, achy and trembling in her feverish state, but she's also warm, cozy and tingly, wrapped up in blankets and pillows and _him._

"Feeling any better?" he asks, his lips against her hair.

"Not really," she admits, and she hates the stuffiness of her nose, hates the way the remnants of sleep make her voice raspier than usual, hates the sandpapery, grating feeling in her throat. God, she really hates being sick.

"I'll go get the thermometer again," Robin murmurs, but she shakes her head, burrows closer, and sighs deeply when she feels his arm wrap more snugly where it holds her around the waist. Her nose is buried in his chest, and his skin is soft, his scent soothing, a better medicine than the antibiotics Emma brought over this morning.

"Regina, I need to know if your fever has gone down," he insists when her arms tighten in a vice grip around his middle, her chest pressed against his ribcage.

"Later," she slurs, "comfy."

He chuckles against her, and she falls back asleep to the low, velvety tone of his voice as he hums an unknown tune in her ear.

When she wakes again, she's alone in the bed, coaxed out of her slumber by the absence of his body heat against her, but she doesn't have to call out his name more than once before he's back at her side, sitting with one leg on the mattress and the other on the floor as he leans over her.

"I'm sorry, did the TV wake you?" he looks genuinely concerned, and Regina had no idea the TV was even on, so she shakes her head, pouting like a petulant child as she answers.

"You left," she grouches, and Robin smiles, sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he produces the tiny jar of VapoRub and waves it at her as explanation for his momentary absence.

"It will help you breathe better," he tells her as he sets the jar by the bedside table, shifting a little closer and moving the covers down to her waist, unbuttoning her silk pajama top and moving the fabric aside, her nipples hardening as the cold air hits her bare breasts.

The fresh, minty smell of the ointment reaches her nostrils as soon as Robin opens the jar, and then she feels the tender, calloused fingers of his left hand rub the substance on her chest slowly, sighs in relief at the coolness seeping into her skin where he touches it.

He lathers the cream on her skin more than seems necessary, but she likes the feeling of his hands on her, almost purrs when he gently massages her breasts as he lands a soft, lingering kiss against her lips, and she breathes his name in satisfaction.

"Sleep, love," he whispers, running the hand that isn't coated in VapoRub through her hair. The last thing Regina feels is the sweet touch of his lips against her forehead, and she smiles as she sighs a _thank you_  and lets sleep pull her under once more.

The next time she wakes, it is well past noon, and he's there with chicken soup and a smile, telling her she looks better, stronger. The thermometer seems to agree, and she manages to eat most of her soup before she starts feeling faint and achy again. Robin presses a cool, wet cloth to her forehead, drops kisses on her cheeks and lips every few seconds, and fills her in on what their boys are up to.

As it turns out, his proximity to her offers her virus a new home, so when she's finally up and about again a couple of days later, Robin ends up in bed, pouty and weak just like she had been, and it makes her smile that now she can turn the tables, take care of __him__  for a change.

She stretches out on the bed next to him later that night, her back resting against the headboard while she reads a book and he watches some mindless television show she's never been able to get into, and suddenly she feels the weight of his head on her shoulder, takes off her glasses and sets down her book on the night table as she looks at him with a smile.

She gently scoots them both down on the bed, wrapping her arms around him and letting him bury his head in the crook of her neck as he sleeps, and yes, he's sick, and snoring, probably getting snot all over her shirt, and she's only just recovering, and it's been a week of perturbed sleep and lots of coughing and headaches and a million other stressful things, but as he sleepily mutters an _I love you_  against her skin, Regina finds she wouldn't change this for the world.


	47. April Fools Gone Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina drunkenly "pranks" Robin by telling him she doesn't want to be with him anymore. It backfires. Kinda.

Drinking rum was a very, very bad idea. But it's Kathryn's bachelorette party, and the fact that it's taken so long for her and Frederick to finally tie the knot is reason enough to get knackered, according to the bride, so Regina indulges in a few cocktails as they bask in the gorgeous sunset of the first day of April.

Her drinks are all sweet and fruity and delicious, all laced with really strong rum that goes to her head instantly, has her giggling and guffawing in a very unqueenly manner, something she knows will haunt her in the morning, when she gets her wits back and realizes what a fool she made of herself.

Right now, however, right now everything is light and fun and absolutely hilarious, ever bad joke, every hiccup, hell, even Kathryn's atrocious singing with the karaoke machine is reason enough for Regina to laugh until she's out of breath, and when they start discussing possible pranks to play on the groom during the wedding, Regina snorts into her drink at every single suggestion, especially the one where Kathryn swears she'll break up with her true love at the altar, just to see his reaction.

She snickers her way up the front steps of her house when Emma drops her off later that night, still singing the wretched songs from the party and holding on to her door for balance while she fishes her keys out of her purse. It takes her a full fifteen minutes to get the proper key in the lock, and she marvels at how funny the door's creaking is when it opens, chortling as she stumbles inside.

Robin is at the foot of the stairs, looking at her with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face, and for some reason the idea of knocking that smirk right off becomes her main focus, gives her a fantastic idea that has her laughing some more. It's April Fools', after all.

"Robin, we need to talk," she says, trying to sound serious, and it appears she's managed it, because he frowns at her.

"Everything alright? Did something happen at the party?"

"The party was fine," she replies, and it takes all her strength to seem aloof, to appear detached and offhanded when all she wants is to giggle her way into his arms and grind herself on him, see if his lips taste as good as they did earlier, when he kissed her fervently as he dropped her off at Kathryn's and told her to have fun.

"Then what is it?" he asks, truly concerned now. And this is it, this is the moment.

"I think we should break up," she says, her tone cold.

"What?"

"I just feel like we're not compatible, we've fought so much to be together and now that we are I'm just… bored." She's slurred her words a bit at the end there, she's gonna have to keep to short, simple sentences if she wants to pull this off. Robin is walking down the stairs, reaching her in seconds, his hands holding her face as he looks at her.

"You don't mean it," he rasps, "you're drunk."

"I'm fine!" she snaps, making even herself flinch. Someone give her an Oscar already.

"Regina—"

"No, Robin, I'm done," she says, flipping her hair dramatically and turning away from him, almost tripping over her own feet and cursing her stupid heels for it.

It's only when she bends down to retrieve them that she hears Robin's labored breathing, looking up from her awkward crouch on the floor to find him wringing his hands together, frantically looking around, and there's a slight tremor in his lower lip, a glassy sparkle in his eyes, and it sobers her right up, realizing what she's done.

"Oh, Robin," she gasps, standing back up and walking closer, but he only pulls back.

"No, it's fine, if this is what you want, I'll… I'll abide by your wishes, milady."

"It's not what I want," she tells him, truly worried now that her silly prank and her stupid inebriated state have cost her the love of her life.

"I was joking, I'm sorry," she says as she wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Regina, if you really want me to leave, I—"

"No, I don't want you to leave, I love you, I'm sorry," it's the first time she's actually voiced the sentiment to him, actually professed her feelings, and she realizes then why this is a genuine fear for him, why it was so easy for him to believe that she would want to leave him. All this time, it's been her who's needed his reassurances, never once has she thought he'd need hers in return.

"Look, I know I'm a bit too… simple for you," he starts, but she shakes her head urgently, grabs his face and brings his lips to hers, closing her eyes and sinking into the gentle press of his mouth against hers for a moment before she pulls back and looks into his eyes.

"I am very, very drunk," she admits, a hiccup escaping her as if to prove her statement, "I thought it would be funny… to mess with you for a bit. I didn't mean a single word I said, Robin, I'm so sorry."

"Really? Because I understand if—"

"No, you're it for me," she says adamantly, sighing when his forehead falls on hers.

"Maybe we should talk about this when you're sober," he offers, but she shakes her head again.

"I love you," she says again, "I don't ever want you to think that I could just… stop."

"Couldn't you, though? We've lost each other so many times, Regina, I keep thinking one of these days you just won't think I'm worth it anymore."

"Robin," she tries, but her voice breaks on his name, and there are tears building in her eyes now.

"You're royalty, have been your whole life, used to so much splendor, and I know you've never been interested in those things, but I still can't help but worry sometimes," he confesses, "that you'll wake up one day and realize you deserve far better than a common thief like me."

"Listen to me," she says, her voice sharp, "I'm a stupid, drunken mess of a woman at the moment, and tomorrow I will hate myself even more than I do now for what I've just done to you. I _need_ you to understand that this is all I want. _You_ are all I want, more than I ever thought I'd have."

"You mean that?" he asks, and she smiles as tears fall from her eyes.

"Of course I do," she answers, landing a kiss to his neck, another to the hinge of his jaw and finally one on his lips. "You _are_  enough, Robin. I love you."

It seems now that she's said it, she can't stop, and this is not how she thought she would tell him, this is not how she thought this night would go at all, but she's glad she can reassure him, glad he seems to believe her when she whispers it again and kisses him hard, tasting his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue before he opens his mouth to her, tangles his tongue with hers.

"I love you, too," he says against her lips, and finally he smiles, tugging on her hand and taking her upstairs, where they prove to each other just how much they mean those words.


	48. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon variant. Set in season 4. Robin and Regina return to Storybrooke after the Marilena incident.

Robin doesn't sleep on her bed the night they arrive. In fact, he doesn't sleep at all, merely sits on her coffee table and stares at Roland as he naps on her couch, spent after the day's journey and the emotional turmoil of having to accept that his Mama was never back, after all. Regina watches from the corner of the living room, and her heart breaks for him.

Zelena's pregnancy had been a lie, a ploy to keep the upper hand, and it was a relief, but the fact remained that Robin had slept with her (though clearly not by choice), and that one detail had altered their lives forever. She can't fault him for it, though, nor can she comfort him, not right now. She's been in his position, she knows how it feels, knows the pain and the sadness and the absolute disgust he must be feeling towards himself, like he's tainted, dirty because he took part in something he would never have accepted, had he known who was really hiding behind his wife's features. She knows he's not up for consoling words or reassuring touches right now ( _she_  certainly wasn't when Leopold used her the way Zelena has used Robin), but she loves him, _she loves him_ , and it kills her that she can't make this better, that his life has been turned into this gigantic mess simply because he had the misfortune of falling for the Evil Queen.

"Robin?" she asks, hesitant and soft, not wanting to startle him. He jumps all the same, turns to look at her with wide eyes and his mouth half open, as if he wants to say something, but he doesn't know what.

"I, uh… I've set up the guest room for you and Roland."

"There's no need for that, I don't want you to go to any trouble for us, we'll head back to camp," he says, moving to get up, but she stops him, the mere thought of watching him walk away from her again making anxiety bloom in her belly.

"It's no trouble, and you both need rest. I promised Roland we'd make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, and you need time to process… well, everything. Please, stay," she says, not even trying to hide the begging tint to her voice.

"Alright," he replies after long seconds of silent consideration, "thank you."

The defeated way he sighs as he turns back to his sleeping son makes her eyes well up with tears, tears she refuses to shed so as not to alarm him further, but she feels it, that gut-wrenching stab of guilt that __she's__  the reason he's in this terrible predicament, and she wants nothing more than to feel him close to her, to have his warmth and his touch and his lips wash away the remnants of her desperation and the heartache she's felt the entire time she's been without him. But right now is not the time for that, and she won't overlook his pain in order to soothe hers. She'll focus on him, on giving him whatever he needs to feel whole again.

"There are extra blankets in the closet at the end of the hall, and the TV has cable, so Roland can watch his cartoons in the morning," she tells him.

"Thank you," he says again, but the sentiment is heavier this time as he walks closer, their faces mere inches apart as he breathes and stares at her, his eyes frantically moving over her face, as if expecting it to change the way Marian's did. She gives him a small smile in reply, wishes him a good night, and walks away, leaving him to tuck his son into the bed in the guest room.

She moves every which way in her bed, trying and failing to find sleep, her mind clouded with images of Robin's face, aghast after Zelena's reveal. He hadn't said a single word the entire drive back to Storybrooke, but he had held her hand, had squeezed her fingers in his as she told him it was okay, that he and Roland were safe now, that she'd never let them go away again, and right now all she wants is to give him that, to give him the support and the love she knows will help him heal, but he's not ready, and all she can do is hope that when he is, he'll come to her.

* * *

 It happens three days after they return. A soft knock on her bedroom door pulls her from her bed, where she'd been tossing and turning again, and when she opens it, Robin is standing on the other side, bags visible under his eyes and anguish clear on his face.

"I can't sleep," is all he says, a mere whisper in the stillness of the night. Regina doesn't reply, merely opens the door further so he can walk inside, closes it and keeps her back to him as she tries to calm her breathing.

When she turns, he's sitting on the mattress, feet dangling from the side, hands clasped together in front of him as he stares blankly into space. Slowly, she makes her way back to the bed, climbs on her side of it and lies down on her back, sinking into the pillows she's piled against her headboard and lifting the covers so that both she and Robin can tuck their legs under them.

He lies on his side with his back to her, not saying anything, and she's so afraid he'll flinch if she touches him that she sticks to her end of the bed, not moving a muscle, but then he turns, seeks her out and loops an arm over her middle, and Regina holds her breath, lets him curl against her and doesn't exhale again until he's buried his head in the crook of her neck and she feels his tears dampen the silk of her pajama top.

She stays silent, merely lets her hand dive into his hair and play gently with the light locks, unable to resist placing a kiss on his brow when he shudders in her embrace. He returns the gesture by squeezing his arm around her tighter and sniffling out a broken _I'm so sorry_ , and she can't take it, won't let him feel this way because of her.

"None of this was your fault. It's okay, we'll be okay," she says with her lips still against his brow, her fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp as she lets him cry out the pain of the horrible deception he's been living. He cuddles even closer to her, the heat from his body a welcome sensation after all those cold nights spent alone in this very same bed.

She doesn't breathe easy until she hears the slight snore that tells her he's finally dozed off, and then she moves just a little, finding a more comfortable position while still keeping him in her arms before she joins him in slumber.

It's the best sleep she's had in months.


	49. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff. Waking up together.

He wakes to the sweet, cinnamon scent of her hair, his nose having buried itself in it during the night, the soft tresses caressing his lips when he lands a kiss on her head. She's naked under the sheets, her skin like silk under his fingertips as he trails them over her breast, down her stomach, over her thigh…

He'd never expected to have this again, had only ever been privileged enough to experience it once before, back in her vault, when he'd been unable to stick to his code and sought her out, desperate for her lips, her touch. He's never regretted that night, but now, now that he's in her bed, inside her home, with her body cradled against him, his arm around her as she breathes deeply against his chest, Robin is struck by how much he's missed her, how much time they've wasted because of his precious honor, an honor that was based on empty threats and a Marian that was never truly there, and he regrets not acting on his feelings sooner, regrets hurting her as deeply as he has.

The sunlight streaming in from the window now lands on her face, illuminating her lovely features to his still bleary eyes. She is so beautiful, so strong, so incredibly wonderful, and she's all his. He admires her as she sleeps, taking in the gentle slope of her nose, the softness of her skin, her long lashes as they rest against the tops of her cheeks, the serene smile on her lips…

He loves her, loves her so, so much, and he can't resist, he tells her so, murmurs the words against her hair before kissing her brow and then burrowing closer, turning so that his body is lying on its side, facing hers. The movement makes her stir for the tiniest of moments, and she scrunches up her nose in the most adorable way before she sinks further into the pillows, into him, her arm coming up and looping around his middle as she sleepily lands a kiss on his chest and then settles.

He falls asleep again, the rhythm of her breathing lulling him back into blissful rest, and when he wakes again, it's to her wandering hands exploring his body under the covers, her lips on his jaw. Her hair is tousled from sleep, her eyes still half closed and her movements lazy, but her smile is blinding, big and beautiful in a way his memory had not done it justice while they were apart.

"Good morning," she rasps against him.

"Indeed," he whispers against her lips before he pecks them.

"What do you want to do today?" she asks, and that's right, he recalls, today there's no threat, no new foe to vanquish, no danger to accost them. Today, for the first time in what feels like ages, they can just _be_.

"How about you stay in bed… naked and glorious as you are," his compliment makes her giggle, but her eyes are grateful, full of love and emotion even as he finishes with a simple "and I'll cook us breakfast?"

"What will you cook?" she asks, still looking into his eyes and grinning lazily.

"What would you like?"

She ponders for a minute, breaking eye contact with him to stare off into the distance while she taps her chin and makes her decision.

"Waffles," she finally says, "with lots of maple syrup. I feel like indulging today."

"As my lady wishes," he chuckles, kissing her lips again.

When he brings her breakfast in bed an hour later, he gets lost in her, in the beautiful way she smiles at him when she sees him, and Robin vows to himself then that she will never again have to feel lonely and unloved. For the rest of his days, he will love her, cherish her, until that smile he adores so much, that smile he thinks about every time he closes his eyes, is not so elusive anymore.


	50. In Any World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon variant.  
> Prompt: Robin is proud of Regina for accepting happiness.

Things are dangerous, the Author has just run off with the magic ink and pen, set to rewrite history as they know it and change their lives forever. He knows, _he knows_  it's not the right time, but he needs to tell her, needs to convey how much hearing her words meant to him, and so as they leave the place of Zelena's seclusion, he grabs Regina's hands, pulling her with him to a nearby tree.

"Robin?" she asks worriedly, confusion etched on her features, but he doesn't reply, only takes hold of her arms and slams their bodies together, crashing his mouth to hers, surrendering to the moment.

"What was that for?" she asks with a small smile after their lips part.

"Because you are an absolute wonder, and I'm so incredibly proud of you for what you said back there."

"You think too highly of me. I still have half a mind to roast her," Regina says with a skeptic raise of her eyebrow and an adorable scrunch of her nose, but Robin merely laughs, knowing she doesn't really mean it. He cradles her cheek in his hand, his eyes drinking her in.

"You're strong, and you are brave. You've made your own destiny by showing kindness to your enemy, and seeing you do that? Watching you embrace your true happy ending? I have never loved you more."

She blushes at his words, smiles dreamily at him as she laces their hands at their sides, closing her eyes when he leans in for another kiss, one that she deepens with slow passes of her tongue over his, gentle grazes of her teeth against his bottom lip.

"Thank you," she tells him in a whisper, "for believing in me."

"Always have, always will, that won't change, regardless of what this Author has planned for us."

"That quill has great power, Robin, what if we wake up in a world where we hate each other? Or even worse, a world where we never meet?" she asks him, and her voice shakes at the idea.

"We're soul mates, Regina." He runs his thumb over her temple, his other four fingers buried in her hair, his voice a mere whisper as he tries to make her understand, "no matter what universe we end up in, my heart will always make its way back to you."

"Are you telling me you'll __'_ always find me'_?" she asks with an exaggerated bat of her lashes before she rolls her eyes. It's ridiculous, how giddy it makes him to see her be this amused at something he does or says, and yes, his statement is quite similar to Snow and David's ridiculous catch phrase, but he won't admit that to her, won't let her get the upper hand, even if she is somewhat right in her mockery.

"No," he finally says with a chuckle and a shake of his head, "I'm telling you that __I love you__ , and that no storybook, magic or otherwise, will ever tear me away from you. I'm never leaving you again, Regina."

His hand is still holding her face, and so he coaxes her towards him, bringing their lips together again and basking in the wonderful sensation of her kisses, the delicious moan she releases into his mouth, the way her arms circle around his waist as she pulls herself closer.

Things are dangerous, the Author will change their stories any minute now, and they should be on their way to stop him instead of here, standing outside a mental institution and making out like teenagers. He knows, _he knows_  it's not the right time, but he'd needed to tell her, needed to kiss her, hold her and let her know how proud he is of her.

When he wakes some time later, their lives are not their own, but rather an illusion created by someone with magical ink and a big imagination. He doesn't remember a life before this one, no vestiges of memory of the time he served as an honorable thief who won the love of a redeemed evil queen. Here, instead of a nomad who spent his time robbing the rich to give to the poor, he's a charming and just noble, with riches and subjects that kneel at his feet, but it doesn't matter, because he'd been right. When he meets a beautiful, daring bandit in the woods, his heart soars, a familiar, wonderful echo of a feeling blooming inside as he falls for her sass and her bravery, for her mysterious brown eyes, so full of pain and wonder, for her lovely, lovely lips, soft and plump and gorgeous...

And when he kisses her, his world finally makes sense again.


	51. Stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post season 4 finale, after Emma becomes the Dark One and disappears.  
> Prompt: Robin taking care of Regina when she's about to collapse from exhaustion.

"We have to do something, we have to find her, we—" _we have to save her,_  she wants to say, but then her body sags, and she cuts off as she collapses in his arms. His voice trembles when he calls her name, and for a moment she feels guilty, guilty because she knows he's worrying about her, fretting over something being wrong with her after her encounter with the darkness.

The feeling of it as it wrapped around her, that black liquid cloud that overtook her and drained any happy thought, any sliver of hope from her… it was terrible. She can't describe it, exactly, but for a while there she was able to see it, a life without any of the things she'd worked so hard to accomplish, and when the fear of it had crippled her, the dark magic surrounding her seemed to rejoice in its choice, accelerating the process.

She's exhausted from her altercation with the magic, her energy gone almost completely as she breathes heavily, Robin's arms wrapped around her to keep her steady.

"Regina? Regina, talk to me, what is it? Where does it hurt?" she hears him ask frantically, and again there's guilt rearing its ugly head inside her.

"Please, Regina," he whispers brokenly, "don't leave me."

She won't, she can't, she has a mission now, but her body won't listen, is still lying limply in his hold, her head rolling from one side to the other as she tries to catch her breath. Suddenly her world tilts on its axis and her legs are swept up from under her, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck to hold herself close to him as he plants a kiss on her brow and assures her it's all going to be okay. She nods, buries her nose in his chest, and then everything melts away.

She wakes in her bed, wearing her silk nightgown and buried in the plush covers, a wet washcloth splayed over her forehead. Her eyes take a moment to adjust to the light from the bedside lamp, and when she can finally take in her surroundings, she finds him asleep in a chair next to the bed. That… cannot be comfortable.

"Robin?" she asks tentatively, and he's up in seconds, flying to her side and kneeling by the bed, holding her hand and kissing it over and over.

"Don't ever do that to me again," he rasps, bringing that hand of hers to his face as he looks into her eyes. Her other hand moves into his hair before she can even register the action, her fingernails scratching at the back of his head soothingly. "For a moment there, I thought I'd lost you."

"For a moment there, you did," she tells him, because there's no point skirting around it. Even if Isaac's alternate world was destroyed, the memory remains. She'd died in his arms, and it had hurt him, she understands that now, sees his scared look for what it is, a flashback to that terrible moment where he'd lost her without having known who she was to him. But she's here now, that universe was obliterated by her son's cleverness, and when darkness had threatened her happy ending again, Emma had saved her.

Emma… the darkness… what is she even doing in this bed?! She has to go find her. Regina tries to get up, only to be gently pushed back by Robin, who sees the urgency in her eyes and begs her to calm down.

"You're no good to Emma if you're dead on your feet, my love. Her parents are looking for her now, so are Henry and Hook, you need to rest."

"She's in this situation because of me, Robin, I can't just sit here and wait—" she tries, but he's already shaking his head, holding on to her hand just a little tighter.

"Yes you can and you will. You're tired, feverish and pale, you'll pass out again not two steps out of the house. Please, rest for now. I promise we will go look for her together once you're better."

She tries again to get up, but her body is not responding to her actions. Her arms feel heavy, weary, her eyes tired and itchy, her energy completely drained, and she knows Robin is right, knows there's no way she'll make it out of the house in this state, so she relents, albeit begrudgingly as she huffs and stares out the window, trying to hide the tears that start to fall, but she should know by now there's nothing she can hide from him.

Warm, calloused fingers wipe away the wetness under her lashes, and his voice is so soft when he asks her what's wrong that she can't help but cry even more as she answers.

"She sacrificed herself for me."

"I know."

"What if I can't bring her back from this? What if I fail?"

"You won't."

"Robin, these are forces far beyond anything I've ever dealt with."

"That doesn't matter. You'll find a way to help Emma."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because she's your friend, and because you're resilient, you won't let anything happen to her."

"You have more faith in me than I do," she says bitterly, and Robin then cups her cheek, rising from his knees and sitting on the bed next to her when she looks away.

"Regina, in Isaac's world, you died to protect Henry even when you didn't know he was _your_ child, not to mention the countless other sacrifices you've made to protect the ones you care about. This is no different. I know you'll find a way to bring Emma back."

She smiles at him, at his unrelenting faith in her, at the way he radiates nothing but love for every part of her, light and dark alike, and it stirs something inside her, a confidence that she can do as he says, that she can be better, that she can defeat that darkness that's taken Emma and bring her friend back to their son.

"Thank you," she tells him, her voice sounding a lot more tired than she'd like to let on, and he looks at her reverently, kisses her cheek, the tip of her nose, and urges her to get some sleep.

"Where are you going?" she asks when she burrows back into the covers and he gets up to leave.

"Um, kitchen? I thought I'd make something for you to eat when you wake up."

She shakes her head, lifting the covers as an invitation for him to join her, and he smiles, walks back to her and climbs onto the bed, lying on his side facing her and humming in satisfaction when she clutches at him and buries her face in the crook of his neck, landing a tiny kiss on his throat and exhaling against him. It feels wonderful, to have him so close again, to be able to breathe in the pine scent of him and feel his scruff scratch deliciously against her skin.

"I love you, Regina," he mutters as his lips linger on her brow, and she lifts her head to kiss him in response, long and slow and sweet and perfect.

She'll take on the world when she wakes up, will scour the land to find Emma and bring her back into the light, but for now, Regina lets herself enjoy the moment, lets Robin's even breaths and tender caresses lull her to sleep, and as she closes her eyes she knows this entire thing will work out, knows that when she wakes, she'll fight, and she will win.


	52. Misgivings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Regina overhears Robin telling Roland the story of the Evil Queen.

He reads Roland bedtime stories, she's used to that by now, used to walking by the room the little boy has claimed as his own in her mansion and seeing father and son curled up on the bed, while Robin reads to him from the many children's books Regina didn't have the heart to get rid of, even after Henry grew too old for them.

Tonight, though, tonight he's not reading scenes from Curious George, or acting out the dialogue from Winnie the Pooh, or using his soothing baritone to transport Roland into the magical world of The Little Prince. No, tonight, he's got their storybook in his lap, hands slowly turning the pages as he reads a particular tale she is not fond of.

Tonight, he's reading Roland _her_  story.

She believes she's imagining it at first, can't fathom why he'd ever think it's a good idea for the boy to learn of her origins, of the times in her life where revenge and darkness mattered more than hope and love, but then Robin mentions her by her former name, and she sees Roland burrow closer into his father's grip, hiding his face in his jacket while his little hand grips and releases the fabric over and over. He's scared. Scared of _her _.__

It's been a while since she's felt hurt, truly hurt, the last time being when she realized that Robin had fallen victim to her sister's deranged attempts at revenge. This moment though, this moment hurts way more than that, more than her _own_  son's rejection when he'd found out her identity, even.

She tries to catch the sob that leaves her, she does, but it escapes her anyway, startles Robin and Roland from their engrossed state.

"Regina?" Robin calls out to her, but she doesn't reply, runs to her room instead, bracing herself against the surface of her vanity and starting at her now tear-streaked face in the mirror.

He's there not a minute later, cradling her in his arms as she cries.

"How could you do that?" she asks against his chest, landing halfhearted punches of her fists against him, her tears coating his shirt.

"My love—" he starts, but she shakes her head, cuts him off because there's nothing that can fix this, nothing. She was just Regina to that boy, just her, the woman that kissed his forehead when tucking him in at night and made apple turnovers for him and played with him in the park, and now all of that is lost, now she's the Evil Queen.

* * *

"How could you?" she asks him again, quiet sobs wracking her body as she tries to compose herself. Her eyes are angry when they finally meet his, and his heart breaks for her, because again, she sells herself short.

"Regina, listen to me," he begs in a quiet tone, desperate to get her to understand.

"We were doing fine, we were happy, _he_ was happy, why did you have to tell him where I came from?"

"It's part of who you are."

"No, it's not! I'm not that person anymore."

"I know you're not, my love, but—"

"No, Robin!" she interrupts again, her voice loud and resentful. "That child looked up to me, he loved me, he has only ever known me as _me_ , he's never had to know me as the Evil Queen, and you took that from him, you took that from _us _.__ "

He feels like a jerk for putting her through this kind of pain, but she has to understand that that's not what this is about, that he wasn't trying to… that Roland doesn't… boy, is he going to have a hard time explaining this.

"Regina, he's known about your past since the day you saved him from that monkey," he finally says, and her eyes widen in outrage, mouth already opening to scream at him because he's just destroyed her source of comfort, but he stops her before more damage can be done.

"That day, when I put him to bed, he asked about you, about who you were. I told him you were the queen, and when he asked if you were the _bad_  queen that had chased us for so long and I said yes, do you know what he said? He said you were the prettiest lady he'd ever seen. Not a single mention of you being terrible or undeserving of his trust, he just thought you were beautiful."

She's stunned into silence, staring at him as he continues his tale.

"Even while my men were quick to judge you, Roland never did. I remember one day, we were walking through the forest, and John made some comment about your dark, evil magic, and how Roland should stay away from you, and that boy turned around and stopped his uncle in his tracks, defended your honor and told him to back off."

"He did?"

"He said you might have been bad once, but that was only because you were alone and sad, and now you wouldn't be anymore, because he was there and he was going to make you smile. That's when the wildflowers started."

Regina remembers the wildflowers, remembers Roland's excited face as he'd presented a new bouquet of them to her every single morning during their time together in the Enchanted Forest. She smiles fondly at the memory, the tears slowing and beginning to dry on her cheeks. She lets Robin's thumb wipe them away now, lets him draw closer and cup her face in his hands, raising it so that her eyes can meet his.

"Roland has always known, and he's loved you regardless, maybe even _because_ of it. You're right, he only sees you as Regina, but it's not because he doesn't know of the Evil Queen, it's because he knows _you_ , he knows your heart, probably as well as I do."

"He was frightened by me, I saw the way he was clinging to you while you read the story," she says as fresh tears fall.

"Yes, he was, he was paralyzed with fear. But do you know what part of the tale we were reading?"

She gives a minute shake of her head in response, her cheeks still warmed by the touch of his hands.

"It was the part where you were about to be executed by the royal guard."

She blinks at that, and blinks and blinks, as if she can't really grasp what he's trying to tell her, so he brings his lips softly to her brow, then brings her head to rest on his chest again as he hugs her tightly, mouth brushing against the hair on the top of her head as he continues to speak.

"This isn't the first time I've read him your story, Regina, and every time we arrive at that bit, he gets scared, we both do. Because you were almost killed, and we love you so much we're terrified of losing you."

She releases a half-sob, half-laugh sort of thing when she finally understands what he's been trying to tell her, moving her head from where it's buried on his chest to look up into his eyes again.

"So, he doesn't hate me?"

"He adores you."

She smiles at that, lets him land a slow, lingering kiss on her lips, their foreheads coming together then their mouths part.

"As do I."


	53. Secret Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimples Queen fluff.

It's not the words that throw her. It's the way he says them, the way he casually looks up from his bubble bath, abandons his rubber ducky and smiles at her as he asks, "Regina, are you my mama now?"

She doesn't know what to say to that, doesn't think there's anything that could have prepared her for such a moment, and yet it arrives, the emotional force of it punching her in the gut as she stares back at Roland's hopeful face and tries her hardest not to tear up at the fact that he considers her family, that he considers her his mother.

"Sweetheart, you know you had a mama, right? Before you came here?"

"Yeah, but she's with the angels now."

"She is, and she watches over you every day."

"I know, that's why Papa said I have you now."

"What do you mean?" she asks, confused, and Roland scrunches up his nose adorably, then looks back down at his bubbles and grabs the rubber duck again.

"Well, Papa said that mama watches over me, but that because she can't be here, she sent me you."

"Your father said that?" she gasps, unable to hold back the moisture that springs to her eyes.

Roland nods, like it's the most obvious thing in the world and he can't quite fathom why she wouldn't know this already. A few quiet moments go by, him playing with his bubbles in the tub while Regina sits idly by, lost in her own thoughts, and then he speaks again.

"So… are you? My mama?"

"I… do you want me to be?" she asks nervously.

"Well, yeah! But you have to marry us, first, Papa said."

"Marry you?"

"Yep, both of us! He said we have to get a shiny ring and ask you, but it's a surprise so you can't know when we're asking you."

"Oh! Well, I guess we have to wait, don't we?"

"But I want you to be my Mama _now._ "

She chuckles at his impatience, shaking her head as joyous tears escape her eyes. When Robin had suggested they move in together two months ago, she'd been scared, paranoid that at some point he'd see something in her that would remind him of her past, that would scare him off because he couldn't possibly want to be with the Evil Queen, but now, now she's just found out that he's thinking of marrying her, that he wants this to be forever, and her heart swells with love for him, for them both.

"I have an idea," she tells Roland, grabbing his towel and helping him out of the bathtub as he excitedly grills her for details. She says nothing while she helps him dry and dress, and it's only when he's clad in his pajamas and ready for bed that she settles him on her mattress and opens the drawer of her nightstand, taking out a short braid made of twine, with colorful little seeds entwined into it.

"Do you remember this?" she asks when she shows it to him.

"It's the bracelet I made you in the castle!" He nods enthusiastically. Regina smiles, then moves to tie the bracelet around his tiny wrist, looping it twice and then securing a knot that is strong, but not too tight.

"You said your papa is getting a ring, and that's fine, but this is for us, alright? Just you and me."

"Like a secret?!"

"Yes, our very own marriage proposal. This way, you don't have to wait for your father to get that ring."

"So we can get married right now?!"

"Yes, dear," Regina replies with a giggle, and to her surprise, Roland jumps down from the bed, kneels on the floor in front of her and takes her hand.

"Papa says you have to kneel down and ask to marry a lady," he explains, and then blushes as he looks at her and asks, "Will you marry us and be my mama?"

She smiles, tearing up yet again as she gives him her answer, because this boy, this beautiful, perfect boy sees her for who she is, who she's become, has no reservations as to her past or her reputation. He simply loves her, wants her in his life forever, and nothing will ever compare to that, to the unconditional love of a child.

"I'd love to."


	54. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quiet night in.

It's not that she minds that Henry spends his nights with Emma on weekends. Once upon a time it had bothered her, sure, had made her blood boil, even, but not anymore. It's that she misses him like crazy when he's gone.

She understands, though, knows that her son loves both of his mothers and wants to spend time with them equally, and so she watches him go, watches him climb into that horrid yellow bug with his duffle bag and wave goodbye to her, Emma giving her a nod before she takes the driver's seat and propels the car forward a little too fast for Regina's liking, but only because it's her son that's in the front seat, not because Ms. Swan is really breaking any speed limits.

Regina walks back inside her home and prepares for another night alone... except she's not alone for long.

Robin is at her door not twenty minutes after she's said goodbye to Henry, a bottle of wine in his hand and a sheepish smile as he inquires if he may keep her company for the night.

"Where's Roland?" she asks without answering his question, and Robin informs her he's just fine, that he's spending the night with his uncle John back at the camp.

"You told me Henry was staying with Emma, so I thought... I don't have to stay if you'd rather have the evening to yourself."

Regina smiles, because the fact that he's still nervous around her, even after their many steamy, intense encounters, warms her heart in ways nothing else ever has.

"No. I want you here," she clarifies, opens the door further and lets him in, guiding him to the kitchen and watching quietly as he helps himself to a couple of glasses and the corkscrew.

She's still a little new to the domestic aspects of their relationship, not having had one that lasted enough for that before, but Robin's made himself at home in her house by now, knows where everything is and sometimes even surprises her by using the copy she gave him of the house key to let himself in and cook her breakfast, now that he's learned to manage modern appliances.

He hands her her wine, smiling serenely at her all the while, and the soft clink of the crystal has her smiling back over the rim of her glass before she takes a small sip of the smooth red liquid. They don't say anything, they don't have to, only walk to the living room together and sit on the couch, Regina leaning her body against his and breathing him in.

"You smell like forest," she tells him, and it doesn't escape her notice that this time, her tone is soft, tender, a complete contrast to the absolute distaste she'd added to it the last time she made that observation, back in the Enchanted Forest when they'd first met and Snow had tried to meddle.

"Are you put off by that?" he asks her, his voice just as low, just as sweet, his arm settling more comfortably around her when she shakes her head and buries her nose in his chest, her lips dropping a faint kiss against the fabric of his shirt, right over his heart.

"No, I like it, it's very... you," she explains, "and I'm quite fond of you."

He smirks at that, she can feel the pull of his lips against her brow, and then he's leaning forward, placing his glass on the coffee table and then taking hers carefully, setting it next to his on the flat surface before he turns back to her, one hand finding its way into her dark locks, massaging the back of her head while his thumb coasts over her cheek. She looks into his eyes, mesmerized as always by the amount of love she sees there, and then his forehead drifts down to touch hers, their noses brushing, lips hovering.

"I love you so very much, Regina Mills," he whispers before he finally kisses her, long and slow and sweet. Like they have all the time in the world.

And they do, Regina suddenly realizes as their lips dance languidly. Because their hearts are set on each other no matter what tries to shake them.

They have forever.


	55. The Bandit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the 3rd OQ Week.  
> Day 1: Bandit OQ.  
> Concept: First time Robin hears of Bandit Regina.

It's ruined.

His entire plan, weeks and weeks of figuring out every single detail so that they could sneak into the Sheriff of Nottingham's quarters and steal the massive amounts of gold he's collected in taxes, his every possible outcome thought out and prepared for. Gone. All of it.

When they'd finally been able to break into the heavily guarded room that housed the riches they were after, it was all gone, not a single gold coin left.

Foiled. Again. And he doesn't even know who is behind it.

At least not until Much runs into the tavern and finds him in his usual spot in the corner, sipping his ale and cursing the stranger who has decided to take up thieving and getting to all his targets before he does.

"Boss, I think I know who we're up against."

"Do you?" Robin asks curiously, his eyes widening in interest.

"Aye. Word in the tavern one village over is there's a new bandit aroun' these parts. A woman named Regina."

"And who exactly is this Regina?"

"Damned if I know, but it seem she been runnin' from Queen Snow for a time now, hit most of the villages in the kingdom already."

"Has she, now?" He's impressed. Truly. But the fact remains that this is his turf, this is the place he does his stealing, and she's... well, she's _stealing_  that from him.

"Rumors be she migh' be tryinna rob Prince John tonigh'."

"Oh, no she won't," Robin assures his friend, and when Much gives him an inquisitive look, he answers with a smirk and a command to rally the rest of the men. They have work to do tonight. 

* * *

 

Prince John's castle is the closest thing to a fortress one can find this side of Sherwood, with a high wall crusted with spikes and fake hidden corridors meant exclusively for thieves, passages built to trick trespassers into an early grave by leaving them stranded with no way out, with the guards only opening them every five years to clean out the bodies of those who have tried and failed to penetrate their defenses. It takes Robin and his men nigh on two hours to prepare and sneak in undetected, winding through the passageways, making sure to pick the right ones based on the map they stole from one of the guards outside, so as not to end up desiccated and alone within the thick walls.

When they finally reach Prince John's treasury, however, they discover that once again, they are too late.

The place has been cleaned out, only a few brass goblets, two silver trays and a silver dagger encrusted with emeralds remain, thrown haphazardly in a corner of the room, as if the person who took the rest of the items found here was in a hurry and was forced to leave these few things behind.

His men seem pleased that there's at least something for them to pillage, and they pocket the precious metals while Robin inspects the space.

That's when he sees her.

It's only for a moment, just a flash of her face before her dark, messy locks move to cover it as she turns and quickly makes a break for it, leaving her hiding place behind the curtains and jumping straight out the window of the palace. Robin runs to the place she'd been standing in not two seconds ago, his eyes following the trajectory of her body as it plummets down to the moat, water splashing when she plunges into it. She emerges with a laugh, her hand grasping a tiny wooden boat that rests idle right under the window, and he realizes then that that's how she's managed to take everything, transporting a few bags at a time on her boat from here to the shore, and if she's alone, that means she's been at this for the better part of today. He chuckles then, because it seems he and his Merry Men never had a chance against her. Again, quite an impressive display of tenacity on her part.

But when she forgoes use of the boat altogether, swims to the shore and then gets out of the water, the wet fabric of her outfit clinging to her every curve and droplets falling off her hair as the moonlight shines over her, Robin has to admit he's not just impressed.

He's bloody mesmerized.


	56. Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the 3rd OQ Week.  
> Day 2: Fake relationship.

Regina bursts through the doors of the hospital, making her hurried way to the reception and glaring at the nurses when not a single one of them waves her through or asks her what she needs. But then she remembers, this isn't Storybrooke, this is Boston, and no one here knows who she is.

"Excuse me!" she barks, slamming her hand against the counter, "I'm looking for Robin Locksley, he was brought in by an ambulance not ten minutes ago. Car crash."

"He's with the doctors right now, but he should be out soon."

"Does he have a room? Can I wait for him there? What's his condition?" she's frantic, she knows that, is acting like a lunatic right now, but she's desperate, she needs to know he's alright. Being startled awake by a call from a paramedic telling you the love of your life has been in an accident will do that to you.

"I'm sorry, only family is allowed access to all that information," the nurse tells her, and if she had her magic with her, she would make her suffer for that remark, but out here she's just a woman, no one knows her, no one has any idea who she is.

_No one has any idea who she is._

"I'm his… sister," she says the first thing that comes to her head, and she supposes saying she was his wife would've been an easier lie to maintain, but her nerves are getting the best of her and she's really not thinking straight right now.

"He's British… and blonde with blue eyes," the nurse says skeptically.

"Um. Half-sister," Regina amends quickly, "I, uh... I take after my mother, he takes after my - _our _-__  father."

"Oh," the nurse replies, seeming a tad contrite about questioning her family ties to Robin, and Regina is relieved that at least she can act convincingly despite the knot she feels in her throat. And she wishes the woman in front of her would just _take her to him_. She needs to see him, needs to know that he's alright.

"Follow me, please, Ms. Locksley, they've just settled him into a room," the woman finally says after about ten minutes of checking through charts, and then she walks ahead of Regina, leading her behind the closed double doors.

Robin is sitting up in the bed, blankets drawn up to his waist, the horrid fabric of his hospital gown the only thing clothing his torso. There's bandaging around his head, a faint red spot of blood visible under the gauze, and his face is covered in tiny cuts and scrapes, his arm bound tight and placed in a sling over his chest. The mere sight of him has her choking up.

"Better watch out those icy roads next time, Mr. Locksley, you gave your sister quite a fright," the nurse says as she reaches him, and Robin looks at her inquisitively as he questions, _Sister?_

"You're lucky dad isn't around, he would've been livid if he knew you were driving on icy pavement and almost got yourself killed," Regina gently berates when she finds her voice again, cluing him in to her ruse, and the look of comprehension on Robin's face is almost comical.

"Ah, he was tough about road safety, our father, wasn't he?" he plays along, and she can see how hard it is for him to keep a straight face right now, so she politely asks the nurse if she can have a moment alone with her _brother_ (Robin snorts at the word).

"Of course, I'll be back in a few minutes to check on him," the woman says, showing herself out and closing the door behind her.

Regina then smacks Robin on his good arm.

"Hey!" he protests, "stop mangling the car crash victim!"

"What the hell were you thinking?!" she snaps, "I told you to wait for me to drive you to the store, you had no right leaving that hotel room like that!"

"Regina, I'm fine."

"Are you, really? Because you're in a hospital bed right now after crashing our rental against another car, and that's not doing much for your credibility."

To her surprise, he smiles, and it ignites her ire even further. Does he think this is _funny_?!

"How dare you escape our room in the middle of the night and get behind the wheel?! In the middle of winter!"

"Technically, it was this morning."

" _Robin!_ "

"Okay, okay! I just wanted to get us some decent coffee, have it ready for you when you woke up. I can drive now, you know."

"Not with ice in the roads, you clearly can't!"

"Nothing too terrible happened, I'll live. It's fine."

"Stop telling me it's fine, Robin. It's not! You could've been seriously hurt, you could've... I could've..." she doesn't say it, because the mere idea of it hurts too much. He could've _died_. She could've _lost him_.

"Oh, my love," he says, and it seems he finally sees how much this has shaken her, because next thing she knows, he's extending his good arm to her and drawing her in, settling her against him as she half sits on the bed, tears leaving her face and soaking his hospital gown.

"I was so scared," she admits.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"The thought of… of you..." she can't say it, she just can't, and he tightens his arm around her, kisses her hair and murmurs soothing words, rubbing circles around her back with his palm.

When her tears have subsided and she's managed to regain her composure, she chances a look at him, gets lost in those dazzling pools of blue she can never get enough of, and then they close as he leans forward, his lips finding hers and pressing softly, gently.

"Mmm," he says against her mouth before they part for a moment, "does this count as incest, I wonder?"

There's mischief in his eyes, an amusement that he can't shake even in the seriousness of the moment, and it's contagious, has Regina smirking back even as she mutters and exasperated _Shut up, thief,_ and lands her lips on his again. The kiss is tender, slow and delicious, there's no urgency, but it's a little wet, a little firm, just enough to reassure her that he's here, that he's alive, that he's--

The sound of someone clearing their throat startles them apart, and Regina turns to find the same nurse from earlier looking at her with annoyance.

"I, um… I'm very close to my brother?" she offers pathetically, and she feels more than hears Robin's rumbling laugh bubbling out of him. The nurse just huffs, says she's security are on their way, and then leaves the room.

Regina can't bring herself to care.


	57. Happiness Deserved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OQ Wedding.  
> This is a sequel to Caught. But can also be read as a standalone piece.

She doesn't understand why it feels so different to see him when she makes her way down the aisle, she just saw him this morning, when Mary Margaret had angrily thrown him out of the guest room of her loft, after she caught them sleeping there together, disrespecting the basic rules of wedding etiquette. That had only been a few hours ago, and she'd been fine then, but now she's a wreck. It's ridiculous that she's this nervous, but she is, she really is.

Henry holds her steady, each step they take making him smile bigger and bigger while Regina feels like her heart is about to burst from her chest. But then her eyes find Robin again, take in the way he's looking at her, and somehow it grounds her, calms her jumping pulse.

And then he smiles, eyes shining more than usual as he clears his throat and watches her, and Regina can't remember ever feeling so admired, so loved.

Time seems to speed up after that, and suddenly she's right in front of him, Henry stopping next to her and beaming.

"I'm so proud of you, mom," he tells her, and Regina thanks whatever god is out there that Mary Margaret had the brilliant idea of using waterproof mascara on her, because tears are leaking from her eyes as her son looks at her and squeezes her hand before placing it in Robin's. "You deserve this. You deserve to be happy," he says, and then narrows his eyes at her husband-to-be in silent threat: __Make her so, or else.__

Robin nods his understanding, goofy smile still on his face as he looks and looks at her, and Regina then turns to her son, plants a kiss on his forehead and whispers a shaky _Thank you_ before she watches him make his way to his seat.

The ceremony is short, but full of people she doesn't remember inviting (though Mary Margaret later informs her that she may have expanded the guest list a little, making Regina scowl). They choose the traditional vows, saving the ones they wrote themselves for when they're alone, something Robin had suggested to her a few weeks ago, when he saw how nervous she was about telling him all the things she wanted to tell him, in front of every single person in town.

Their first kiss as husband and wife is chaste and sweet, but Robin's hand sneaks around to her waist and presses her closer for a moment, murmuring a soft _I love you_ in her ear and making butterflies erupt in her belly.

The reception is simple, but elegant, white flowers and twinkle lights all over the place, good music, good food, and lots and lots of champagne, getting everyone in quite the festive mood until a slow song begins to play, winding down the hustle and bustle of the party.

"Care for a dance, Mrs. Locksley?" Robin asks with a smirk, and Regina can't stop herself from smirking back as she takes his offered hand and lets him lead her to the floor, where they get lost in the melody and the feel of each other for what seems like hours, until they're dragged in different directions by their loved ones.

Emma, Ruby, Mary Margaret and even Granny all take turns dancing with Robin, while Regina dances with Henry, then with David, then one more time with her son, and then little Roland is walking up to her and yanking on the flowy skirt of her ivory dress, asking for a dance as well.

By the time she finds her way back to her seat, Regina is exhausted, and she takes a swig of her champagne before she lets her head fall back for a moment, turning it this way and that, trying to loosen the knots that have formed at the base of her neck, when Robin's warm hand interrupts her movements, massaging firmly and working out the kinks as he stands behind her, until she's relaxed and jelly-like against him, her head supported by his stomach as her hand reaches up to hold his over her shoulder, fingers lacing together.

He pulls her up, then, smiles at her and pecks her lips.

"Mind if I steal you away for a few minutes, milady?"

"What? We're doing this now?" she asks, because she knows that his desire to drag her off is so they can finally exchange their real vows.

"We don't have to, but I'd like to be able to properly tell you how I feel before our wedding is over," he tells her, squeezing her fingers a little in reassurance. Of course, he's absolutely right, they need to do this now, before the night is done and they're left to murmur the words hurriedly in the throes of their passion as he strips her of this dress (because he is most _definitely_ stripping her of this dress the second this is over and they're behind closed doors).

"The gazebo is empty, and blocked from view by this gigantic tent we're under," she offers, and Robin grins.

"Perfect," he says, taking her hand in one of his, her heels hooked on two of his fingers in the other, and she walks barefoot just behind him, sneaking out of the massive canvas cover.

They reach the gazebo undetected, and instead of settling in the comfy benches lining the structure, they sink to the floor, knees tucked under them as they hold hands and stare at each other.

Robin's fingers rise to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear when the wind blows it in her face, and he easily plucks the white orchid that had been holding her hair up in a loose bun at the back of her neck, letting her locks flow easy and free.

"There you are," he says when she smiles at his gesture.

"Shall we begin?" she asks.

"Sure, you go first."

 _Oh._ Okay, then.

It takes her a moment to steady her breathing, to swallow her nerves and actually find her voice again, but she looks at him, at the loving smile he's giving her, and it's easier after that. She takes his hands in hers again, breathes in, then out, in, then out, and then she speaks.

Here goes.

"Robin, you know me, you know my past. Who I was, what I did, you've always known, and yet you've never judged me, you've always seen the best in me, have always tried to show me how much I deserve to be happy."

"And you do," he interrupts, and she shakes her head, not because she doesn't believe him (she does, she finally does), but because she's not done yet. He understands, nods silently for her to continue.

"All this time, I never once thought that I could find love again, or that it could be this beautiful. I was consumed by darkness, and my son, my little prince, he pulled me out, but then it wasn't just him anymore, it was also you and Roland and that unrelenting faith you have in me. To know that you care that much, that you love me that much, and that I get to spend the rest of my life at your side… nothing could ever make me happier."

Her voice is shaking as she finishes, tears running freely down her face, and she's surprised to see Robin's eyes are wet, as well. The tears have yet to fall on his end, but she suspects that they will as soon as he's done saying whatever it is he planned for her today.

"Regina," he starts, "we've been through so much, you and I. I've guarded your heart with my life, and yet I've also broken it."

"Robin," she tries to stop him, but now he's the one shaking his head at her.

"Let me finish, please," he begs, and she nods, sniffling as she watches him.

"I broke your heart. Unintentional as it might have been, I did, and you found it in yourself to forgive that, you found it in yourself to forgive your sister, even when she did not want to be forgiven, when she took her life and that of my child growing inside her. But more importantly, you forgave yourself, you forgave all those sins you'd spent years suffering for, and you allowed yourself a chance at happiness. You say it's because of our faith in you, because of our love for you, but it's not just that, Regina, it's _you_ , it's who you are, who you've become, what you've made of yourself out of nothing but love and your desire to be better. You are a wonderful mother, friend, lover, leader… I cannot imagine a better woman than you to spend my life with, and I am so happy that you chose me."

His voice breaks in that last word, and then they're both babbling fools as they hold each other and cry and laugh, his lips peppering kisses all over her face, her hands cupping his cheeks and doing the same, until their mouths meet and press together fervently, letting go only when they hear Roland's muffled shouts of _Where did Papa and Regina go?!_ from inside the big white tent that shields them from view.

"We should head back," she says with a laugh, giving him one last, lingering kiss before she rises, taking his hand and pulling him up with her.

He uses the momentum to bring her against him, her back landing with a dull thud against his chest, and then he's leaving a trail of kisses on her bare shoulder, up her neck and to her cheek, her head tilting to the side to give him more room, her eyes closed as she savors the moment.

"Your son is looking for us," she reminds him when his hands start roaming her body, kneading her breasts over her dress just so. He grunts in frustration, lands his forehead against her shoulder as he huffs out a breath, and then he composes himself, taking her hand once more as they make their way out of the gazebo.

He carries her shoes for her again, turning every few seconds to look at her and smile like an idiot, and Regina can't help it, she smiles back, just as stupidly in love with him as he is with her, and it occurs to her that this is it, this is what the rest of her life looks like. Ridiculous smiles and immeasurable happiness for the rest of her days.

She finally has everything she's ever wanted.


	58. Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the 3rd OQ Week.  
> Day 3 prompt: Lost together.

It's over. They've done it. _She's_  done it.

The night Emma sacrificed herself for Regina had been the start of a whole new adventure, one that involved the love of his life searching for a way to save her friend just as ardently (if not more so) as she had searched for the Author back when she believed he would be the key to her getting a happy ending.

Robin's been with her through it all, has seen the toll it's taken on Regina to search for Emma, to find a way to detach her from that dagger, to bring her back to the side of good, and today, after an extensive battle with dark forces far beyond his understanding, she's done it. She's saved Emma.

He's just come back from checking on Roland, who is currently in Regina's vault (the only safe place for him during all this), and princess Snow, prince David, and the pirate are all gathered in the middle of Main Street, hugging the woman previously known as 'The Savior' and welcoming her back home. Henry is there, too, clutching his mother around the waist and not letting her go even as other people extend their affections to her, Regina watching them from a distance with a serene smile gracing her lovely features.

"She's back!" a gruff voice suddenly screams excitedly, and Robin turns just in time to see that Leroy is the one who's just made the announcement, and next thing he knows, there are people running out of every establishment and making their way to Emma with delighted grins on their faces. He joins the stampede, his sole intent to find Regina, but the crowd grows in seconds, and then he's surrounded by people, none of them even resembling the mysterious brown eyes he feels he was born to look into, nor silky black tresses he itches to comb with his fingers or the soft red lips he can never get enough of.

A sense of slight panic overwhelms him, because he knows she's here, he just saw her a moment ago, but he can't find her now, and he needs her. He'd left in a hurry to check on Roland when the battle was over, and despite her reassurances that she was fine as she urged him to go make sure his son was okay, Robin still needs to make sure __she's__  alright that nothing has hurt her or threatened to take her from him again.

Just when he's about to start screaming her name, he sees her, still standing on the very same spot his eyes had left her when the people began to overflow the street, a watery smile breaking out on her face when her eyes find his in the crowd, and the world stops.

It's like everything has decided to wind down, no sound registering in his ears, the people around them turned to nothing but faceless blurs as he breaks a path through them in the opposite direction, making his way to where she stands, tall and proud and absolutely beautiful.

When he reaches her, his hands clutching at hers at their sides, she says nothing, watery smile still in place as she tilts her head up slightly and lands a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose.

"You did it," he breathes, and she can't hear him, not really, but the words are whispered so close to her lips that he's sure she can feel them, and then he smiles, teeth on full display in the widest grin he's sure he's ever sported as he watches her with nothing but love and admiration.

"I'm so proud of you, Regina," he tells her, this time his voice registering a little louder, and at his words, a single tear slips from her eye, trails a path down her cheek that he easily wipes away with his thumb when he raises a hand to cup her face, fingers tangling on the hair at the back of her head and massaging her scalp softly as he catches her lips with his.

They stay like that, lost in the the crowd, uncaring and uninhibited, because she's his soul mate, dammit, and she's just become a Savior on her own right, has just managed to prove to herself and everyone else that her past does not define her.

And Robin has never loved her more.


	59. Growing Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roland adopts a kitten

He sneaks out at 8:15 on the dot every morning, makes his way down the stairs and out the back door without a peep, sly little outlaw that he is, but he's not as stealthy as his father, has closed the door a little too loudly more than once, and by now Regina has noticed his little trips to her old garden shed, has figured out he has these tiny daily adventures. What she hasn't figured out is why.

She leaves Robin fast asleep in their bed, dropping a kiss to his temple just because she can, and then puts on her robe, leaving her room and keeping a safe distance as she follows Roland when he once again leaves his room and walks downstairs as quietly as he possibly can.

She notices he's had a late start today (the clock she can see mounted on her kitchen wall from where she's hiding by the door reads 8:27) so she's not surprised to see that he hurries in his task of unlocking the back door, leaving it open wide as he goes back to the kitchen and rummages through the fridge. What is he up to?

She watches as Roland pulls out a carton of milk from the fridge and puts it inside his backpack. It's the regular milk that Henry likes, not the chocolate flavored one she buys just for him, which is… odd, to say the least.

She follows, being careful not to alert him to her presence, crouching behind the kitchen counter as he makes his way outside, leaving the door open behind him. Regina watches from the kitchen as he reaches the shed and crouches down to crawl inside it, and she realizes then that he's talking to someone, and for a moment she considers running out there, this little spy mission be damned, because if a stranger's out there talking to her son, then-

Except no one's actually talking back. No, there's no speech to be heard in reply to Roland's high-pitched "Good morning!" or his excited "I brought you milk!"

No, no speech whatsoever… but there is meowing.

Comprehension dawns quickly, and Regina lets out a breath as she finally understands why Roland's been leaving his bed before his parents are up and hiding his early morning activities from them.

Sure enough, when she makes her way outside, shielded from his view by the thick trunk of her apple tree, she sees him holding a little orange ball of fur and petting its head for a moment before putting him back on the ground and pulling one of the saucers from her expensive china teacup collection out of his little backpack. It takes him a while to set everything up, with the kitten licking at his hand and tickling him, making him laugh, but he manages, pours the tiniest bit of milk on the saucer and watches with delight as his new adopted pet licks it clean, meowing for more when he's done.

"Roland," she says softly as she finally steps into his line of sight, her face stern, but no less amused.

"Uh oh," he says.

"Yes, 'uh oh' is quite right. What are you doing, young man?" she asks, her tone low, but firm.

"I'm sorry, Regina, but Oliver needed me!" he excuses, dropping down to the floor to pick up the little creature and giving him a pet.

"Oliver?" she asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

"That's what I named him," he says proudly, "because he looks like the kitty from the movie you showed me."

He does indeed, Regina realizes, thinking back to the night she'd sat with him and they'd watched Oliver & Company together, Roland clapping along to "Why Should I Worry?" and laughing at the animals talking and singing to each other.

"That he does," she admits, "but honey, where did you take him from? Surely he has a home somewhere?"

"He doesn't. His mama died, like mine," he informs her, and pain shoots through her chest at the pouty way he says it, "I had to take care of him, because he doesn't have a queen."

"He doesn't have a what?" she asks, confused.

"A queen. You know, like you. My mama died but I have you to be my mama now, and you smell nice and you give me yummy things to eat and you cuddle with me. I wanted Oliver to be happy, the way I'm happy with you."

There are tears in her eyes, salty droplets falling before she can stop them, her hand splaying over her chest in an attempt to soothe the pleasant ache she feels there, because this beautiful little boy has lost so much, and yet he loves her, he appreciates her, is happy with her, and only wants to spread that same happiness to a less fortunate soul.

Regina sinks to her knees on the dirt floor, and Roland instantly goes to her, grabbing her face in his tiny hands and begging her not to cry.

"I'm sorry, please don't be sad, I don't want you to be sad, I'll tell Oliver to go," he insists, but she's shaking her head, wiping her tears as quickly as she can before she smiles at him.

"Oliver can stay," she tells him, "come on, bring him inside, you can watch him while I get dressed and then we'll go take him to the doctor and buy some things for him, okay?"

"Really?!"

"Why, yes, he'll need a bed, and proper food, and we have to make sure he's healthy if he's going to live with us, don't we? That way we'll know how to care for him."

Roland throws himself at her, uttering a "thank you, Regina," against her hair, and she revels in feeling so cherished, so loved.

When they return from their trip to the vet and the pet store, Oliver now sporting a new collar and playfully biting at Roland's hand where it holds him against his chest, Robin is waiting by the door, arms crossed over his chest and a look of amused exasperation on his face.

"You got a cat," he says by way of greeting, not moving from his position even as Regina leans closer and lands a soft kiss on his lips.

"We got a cat," she confirms, kissing him again.

"I'm not a fan of cats," he says against her mouth, arms finally moving to wrap around her waist as Roland practically bounces inside, carrying all of Oliver's things.

"I wasn't a fan of thieves, and look where that got me," she jokes, and Robin laughs softly, kisses her again.

"Guess I'll have to get used to it, then," he murmurs, pulling her closer and bumping his nose against hers.

"Does it really bother you?" she asks then, turning serious for a moment.

Robin looks at her, then at his son where he's sprawled on the living room floor playing with his new pet, and he smiles.

"Not one bit."


	60. A Mother's Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the 3rd OQ Week.  
> Day 7: Late night confessions.  
> Concept: Regina tells Robin that Henry came out to her.

Something's wrong. He can see it, sense it in the way she tightens her shoulders in surprise when he runs his hand over the bare skin of them, steam still billowing around them even after they've shut off the shower.

"What is it, my love?" he asks gently, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Nothing."

"Are you sure?" he prods, because he knows this is her default, that whenever something plagues her, she closes up and tenses at the mere prospect of someone offering support or a friendly ear.

"Yes," she replies, but the uncertainty in her tone must be obvious even to her, because it changes to something more resolute as she insists, "I'm fine."

He leaves her be, helps her slip into her silk pajamas before they climb into bed together, her body instantly gravitating towards his, her back settling against his naked torso, his arm looping around her over her waist, fingers slowly caressing bare skin under the hem of her pajama top.

Regina extends an arm, turns off the bedside lamp and then sinks further back into him, her breathing slowing, slowing, until it's deep and relaxed, and he joins her in sleep not ten minutes later.

He's awoken by the shift of her body against him, but his eyes remain closed. He's used to this, used to her moving restlessly as she sleeps, and she's told him she prefers that he doesn't try to soothe her, that he let her handle it on her own, so he's learned to find sleep once more even while she twists and turns until she's able to rest again.

This time is not like that, though, this time she turns, nestles herself half on top of him and lands a kiss on his shoulder.

"Robin? Are you awake?" she asks hesitantly.

"Hmm," he confirms, opening his tired eyes to her. She's looking straight at him, chin propped up on the hand she's laid flat over his chest, tousled locks framing her face as she takes him in, teeth worrying her bottom lip.

"Henry told me something today," she starts, and he knows, he just knows that this is what had her staring off into the distance earlier. Whatever the boy has said to her, it's rattled her to the bone.

She looks away when he gestures for her to continue, and Robin reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek as he tries to ease the fear that seems to be preventing her from talking.

"Regina, whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Now please, tell me, is Henry alright? Has he been hurt? Did you fight?"

"No, no it wasn't anything like that. He's okay, it's just… I'm not."

"What happened, my love?" he asks again, hand still cupping her cheek, his thumb wiping away the stray tear that leaves the corner of her eye.

"There's a dance coming up at the school, remember what Mary Margaret said about Roland's art class? How they'll be helping make the decorations?"

"Yes," he answers, confused as to where this is going.

"Well, Henry wants to go to the dance… and he wants to ask someone."

Comprehension finally dawns on him, and he can't help but smile tenderly at her.

"Ah. You're dealing with his first crush, then."

"It's not that, exactly."

"It's the first time he's wanted to court someone. It's only understandable that you'd feel nervous about it, my darling, but I'm sure it will be fine. Who's the lucky lady?"

"His name is Trevor."

Oh.

_Oh._

Well that's… new.

"Huh..."

"Does it bother you?" she asks, and there's a fierce, protective lilt to her voice that makes him love her more at that moment than he has since he met her, something he didn't think was possible.

"No, it doesn't bother me. Just wasn't expecting that, is all."

"Neither was I," she says then, lifting her chin from his chest and looking down as her fingers begin to swirl in circular patterns over his skin.

"There's more to this, isn't it?"

"I love my son," she says vehemently, her eyes finding his again as she speaks, "I love him more than anything, and nothing will ever make that go away, least of all something that is part of him, of who he is."

"I know that, Regina, you don't have to prove anything to me."

"I feel awful."

"Why?"

"Because for a moment, I… I wished…" she breaks down then, tears in full swing now as they trail down her face, and Robin sits up with her, cradles her in his arms and hugs her to him, letting her cry herself out against his chest.

"You wished he had picked a girl."

"No! Yes! I don't know! I'd never wish for him to be anything he's not, if he likes a girl or a boy, it doesn't matter to me. I just… I'm so scared, Robin."

"Of what people might think?"

"Of what people might _do_. What if someone hurts him just because he's different? Just because he dared pursue his happiness?" she asks desperately, and finally, finally, he understands.

"Oh, my love," he says as he squeezes her tighter, "it won't be like that."

"You don't know that."

"Of course I do. Regina, every single person in this town cares deeply for Henry, some of them have risked their lives to protect him. He's a brave boy, he saved you from yourself, saved Emma, saved all of us in some way. He's a hero to every one of us, that won't change simply because he has a crush on a boy."

"I just… I don't ever want him to feel like he doesn't belong. I don't want him to think that I… that anyone would believe him to be less than he is. I don't want him to question if he's accepted, if he's loved."

There's a familiarity in the way she says that, a flash of pain in her eyes that Robin is sure has to do with Cora, and his blood boils, because he will never, ever forgive that woman for the way she treated her daughter, for the way she made the woman he loves suffer so much when all she wanted was to feel safe and cared for by the one person who was supposed to be there for her.

"Regina, what did you say to Henry when he told you he wanted to ask a boy to the dance?"

"I told him I thought it was an excellent idea."

"And what did he say?"

"He asked me if I was okay with it."

"And are you?"

"Yes! Of course I am, I told you, it doesn't matter. I love him, and I am proud of him, always."

"Then that's what you have to focus on, my love. You can't protect him from everything and everyone. What if it's not someone in town judging him, but rather this Trevor lad who breaks his heart? What then?"

Regina doesn't reply right away, but he feels her tense up in anger as she extricates herself from his hold, looks at him with murderous eyes and mutters, "He wouldn't dare."

"It could happen. The relationship could go sour… or it could not. We don't know."

"If he hurts my son, I swear, I'll--" but he cuts her off by grabbing her face in his hands and planting a kiss on her lips, one that he laughs into before he gives her another peck and then pulls back, staring at her with a smile.

"You are a wonderful mother and an admirable human being, Regina Mills, and I love you with all of my heart."

She graces him with a tender smile at that, then kisses him again, moaning softly into his mouth.

"Thank you," she murmurs when they've settled back into the bed, his arm around her shoulders now, hand playing with the ends of her hair as she rests her cheek against his chest.

"Henry is going to have such a wonderful time at that dance."

"I hope so."

"Has Trevor agreed to go with him already?"

"No, he hasn't asked him yet, he's a little nervous."

"Is there any way I can help?"

"He said this is something he has to do alone, so I guess I - _we_ \- should respect that until he asks for our help."

"Sounds fair. Are you alright? Now that you've gotten this off your chest."

She trails her fingers slowly up and down his naked torso, lips landing a kiss on his neck, her breath washing over him in a warm wave as she exhales against his skin.

"I will be."


	61. More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A special moment. Bonus points if you get the yellow daisies reference.

Sweet.

That's the first word that comes to mind when awareness starts pulling her from the deep pools of sleep, and she realizes upon waking fully that it's because something close by __smells__ sweet. Sweet and... summery?

Cracking one eye open, Regina sees Roland standing in front of her, tiny fingers holding a flower that he's running up and down the slope of her nose, his other hand grasping the stuffed monkey that has long since become his inseparable companion.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she greets.

"For you," he says, dropping the yellow daisy in front of her on the bed and beaming. She grins back, thanks him, and sits up, her arm instantly extending to the other side and finding it cold and empty. It seems Robin's been up for a while.

"Where's your father?" she asks with a confused frown, and Roland looks sheepish for a moment, guilty smile playing on his lips as he shakes his head.

"I'm not s'posed to tell."

"Why not?"

"It's a plan, only Henry and Papa and I know."

"Ah, I see, it's your little secret, huh?" she asks playfully, bopping the tip of his nose with the daisy, and Roland giggles, nods his head.

"Tell you what, if you share your secret with me, I'll make bubbles with my magic again during bath time tonight," she offers, and Roland's eyes go wide as he stares at her.

"Really, Regina?!" he asks enthusiastically.

"Yes, really."

"And you won't tell Papa I told you?"

"I promise," she chuckles, holding out her pinkie and lacing it with his, kissing his little fist for good measure, and Roland's smile only grows, teeth in full display as he replies.

"He's getting more daisies!"

"More daisies? What does he want with—" she stops, her mind reeling as she thinks back to two weeks ago…

They'd just freed Emma of the dagger, had managed to actually destroy the thing and all its darkness with it, they had won and they were happy and in love and celebrating, and he had suddenly grabbed her hands and asked her to marry him.

Regina always thought that when the time came for him to ask that question, it wouldn't matter how he did it, that she would say yes right away, but that day, she'd found herself hesitating, and Robin's smile had dimmed slightly at her silence.

"I… I'm sorry," he'd told her, brushing it off, making it seem like he'd just gotten caught in the moment, and maybe he had, but he also had a ring in his pocket, a ring he told her he'd been carrying around for days, waiting for the perfect moment, and then he'd apologized again, had insisted that she forget he ever asked, that he knew she wasn't ready yet, that he understood.

"It's not that," she'd assured him, smiling tenderly at him. "I do want to marry you, Robin."

"But?" he'd asked, looking confused.

"I just… there should be more."

"More?"

"Yes, more. There should be a thousand yellow daisies, maybe, or music… or champagne, or a dinner where you do something ridiculous like hide the ring in the dessert, or…" she'd let out a frustrated sigh before rambling on, "I don't really know. It's cheesy and it's stupid, because I shouldn't want those things. I should just be glad you want to marry me at all, but..."

"Regina," he'd stopped her self-deprecating tirade, pocketing the small, unopened velvet box again and cradling her face in his hands, "I love you, and you're right, you deserve better than a quick proposal spurred on by external circumstances. You deserve something special and romantic, and I'm only too happy to have us wait a little longer, at least until I find the perfect way to get you to say yes."

He'd smirked at her, no trace of hurt or rejection in his eyes, only love, only that unrelenting faith and devotion that carries her name and glows brighter with every passing day.

They hadn't discussed the matter again, but now –she looks down at the flower Roland has lovingly brought for her— now he's out getting __daisies__.

Roland runs out of the room when he hears the door opening downstairs, and Regina is still lost in thought as she gets out of bed and changes into her outfit for the day, her hands trembling as they zip up her red dress. She hadn't even meant the comment literally, she'd just said the first thing that popped into her head, surely he wouldn't… would he?

She makes her way down the stairs, and then gasps, a hand covering her mouth and her eyes watering when she takes in this most beautiful of gestures. She doesn't have to count them, she knows there are exactly one thousand yellow daisies taking up every possible surface in her living room. And there, in the middle of the bright blooms, are Robin and their boys, the thief grinning like a fool and holding a small jewelry box in his hand.

He's not even done opening it when she gasps out a "Yes!" and throws herself into his arms.


	62. Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing Year.  
> Robin and Roland defend Regina.

"Leave her alone."

When he says it, it comes naturally.

Like it's instinct, like he was _born_  to protect her.

"Roland, what are you doing?" Much asks when he looks at the boy, standing at the ready with a tiny arrow notched in his tiny bow, his face set in a scowl as he stares at the scene before him.

"She's my friend," he says adamantly, "and you're hurting her."

It startles her, how fierce he is in his defense of her, how he scrunches up his nose and tilts his chin up defiantly at one of the men who's helped raise him. But he's determined, it seems, and Regina can't quite wrap her mind around it.

"Roland, she's an evil witch," Much tries to reason. There's no danger, he's likely to not even get a scratch (if the arrow even hits him), but it's clear that the boy's stance surprises him as much as it does her.

"She's not evil, she's my friend. Let her go," he states again, frowning at the painful hold Much still has on Regina's arm.

"You heard the boy," a voice comes from behind them, and Regina turns to find Robin stalking towards them from the far end of the hall. She wrenches her arm free of Much when she feels his grip slacken slightly and then walks to Roland, who's still standing sideways, bow and arrow at the ready, one eye closed as he calculates his target.

"Roland, it's alright," she tells him as she coaxes him to lower his weapon, and her heart aches at the way he strays his gaze from Much for just a moment to flash her a small smile and ask if she's really, really okay.

The Merry Men doubt her, despite Robin's insistence that she's changed, that she's no longer the Evil Queen, and she can't say she blames them for their distrust, but having a grown man walk up to her and slam her against the wall in anger had brought painful memories to the forefront of her mind, and she'd been frozen, unable to defend herself. Her magic would not come, suppressed by her fear, and by that part of her that knows she deserves this, the pain and the judgment and the suspicious looks. But it seems her arsenal of unlikely friends now extends to the littlest outlaw in the Enchanted Forest, and he has taken it upon himself to rescue her.

"I really, really am," she answers Roland's question with a smile, kneeling before him as Robin finally reaches them.

"It is her fault the Wicked Witch is after us, Robin. I told you we should've killed her, I told you she wasn't to be trusted and now we have that green monster sending her minions after us, and it's all because of _her_ ," Much spits, jerking his chin in Regina's direction, and she feels it, the anger boiling inside her, making her magic flare, but then Roland is putting a small hand on her arm where Much had grabbed her, inspecting the slight bruising that now colors her skin.

"She also saved my son from those minions, in case you don't recall," Robin insists. She notices how he's suddenly shaking and it baffles her, that he's so angry on her behalf, that he wants to defend her just as much as his little boy did.

"Once a villain, always a villain. She'll turn on us and aid the witch in destroying us all, she's scum!" Much replies, and Robin seethes.

"That's enough!" he thunders. "Ultimately, the decision to stay in this castle and help the queen is mine, if you'd like to reside somewhere else, you're welcome to leave, but don't for a second think I won't defend her if you so much as think of trying this again."

He turns his back on the man then, crouches down in front of Regina and Roland and gives his son a proud smile.

"Quite the little knight, aren't you, my boy?" he asks in a murmur, wincing at the intentionally loud noise Much's boots make against the floor as he stomps his way down the hall, leaving them there as he mutters things under his breath.

"He was hurting my majesty," the boy resumes, "I was saving her."

"And you did," Regina speaks then, "you saved me. But Roland, honey, your uncle Much loves you, you can't treat him like that."

"But he was being mean," Roland insists.

"He's only mean because he's scared, my boy," Robin tells him as he sits more comfortably on the floor.

"Of the green witch?"

"Among other things, yes," his father tells him, and Regina expects him to elaborate, to tell his son how _she_  is the reason Much is scared, how her past deeds have tainted her, but he doesn't. Instead, he watches his son as he takes Regina's arm in his tiny hands again, ghosting fingers over the bruises Much has left there.

"Does it hurt?" he asks her, lower lip trembling, and the force of his affection punches her in the gut, makes her want nothing more than to hug and soothe and care for this child, since she can no longer do so for her own.

"A little, but I'll be okay if you give me magic," she tells him, smiling conspiratorially. Robin frowns for a moment, but lets her continue her little game, and for some reason the fact that he's trusting her with his son even when she's discussing magic (a subject she knows Robin detests) makes a pleasant, liquid warmth flood and settle in her chest.

"Silly majesty, I don't have magic," Roland tells her with a giggle, shaking his head in an admonishing way, like __she's__  the child in this conversation.

"Oh, but you do," Regina insists, "see, what you just did for me? That makes you my truest knight, and truest knights have a special kind of magic."

"We do?!" he asks excitedly.

"Of course! And I need yours for my arm to stop hurting."

"What do I do?!" he's clapping his hands and bouncing where he stands, his little bow and arrow forgotten at his feet, and Robin chuckles where he sits beside Regina, his eyes bright and happy as they look at her, and oh, she could just drown in the sparkling blue of his gaze.

"Majesty! How do I do the magic?!" Roland asks again, interrupting the trance she'd been inadvertently drawn into, and she turns to address the boy, grins as she replies.

"Well, you have to give me a truest knight's kiss right here," she says as she offers her bruised arm, "and it won't hurt anymore."

Roland's all too happy to help, and delicately bends his head towards her damaged skin, landing a feather of a kiss on her arm and then looking back up at her expectantly.

"Did it work?" he asks. Regina moves her arm, bends it back and forth for show, and then smiles at him.

"Perfect," she confirms, and the boy beams, dimples that are so much like his father's on full display as he announces his success.

"I did the magic, papa! I did the magic!" he tells him, and Robin nods, smiles proudly at his boy and says that _Yes, you most certainly did_ , and then Roland is scampering off, heading to the castle library to find Belle and tell her all about his new powers, leaving Regina alone with the leader of the outlaws, sitting on the floor in the middle of the abandoned hallway.

Silence presses in from all directions, and she's startled when Robin's hand gingerly takes her arm and brings it to his lap, one finger running slowly up and down the bruises. She shouldn't let him do this, but she finds herself unable to stop, reveling in his gentle touch, in the intimacy of the moment, something she hasn't had in quite a long time.

He raises her arm then, bringing it to his lips and smirking as he says "I assisted Roland, did I not? Technically, I'm your knight, too," and bends forward to kiss her arm. He doesn't stop at one, though, leaves peck after peck on the purplish spots, the soft press of his lips against her skin sending lovely electric shocks through her entire body.

"Did you mean it?" she finds herself asking, her voice raspy thanks to his actions, and he looks up at her, confused, comprehension dawning only after she tacks on, "What you said to Much about defending me, did you really mean that?"

"Of course I meant it," he confirms.

"But… why? He's your friend, and I'm… Why would you help _me_?"

"I don't know the details of what happened to you, but I do know that you've redeemed yourself, that you've found a way out of the shadows, and that deserves recognition. You have a beautiful soul, Regina, I'll gladly fight my pig-headed friend to defend that," he tells her with a small smile, and only then does she realize he's laced their fingers together, his lips falling on her knuckles, softly pressing against her skin as his eyes find hers, and for the first time since she let her son go and destroyed that ill-fated scroll, she feels it, tiny and warm and creeping in through her very skin, a bright spot of light in the darkness of her life.

Hope.


	63. Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after the big showdown with Zelena at the end of 3B. Robin helps put Regina's heart back in.

It shouldn't surprise her that he's there, waiting for her on her stoop when she arrives at the manor after paying her jailed sister a visit, but it does, it throws her (it always does), that he seems to be convinced that she's worth the trouble, that this whatever-they-have is worth every tribulation that has presented itself in their path.

"Everything alright?" he asks when the clicking of her heels alerts him to her presence, and it's only then that she realizes he's holding something, had been looking at it while she made her way to him, something red and black and pulsing, something she'd asked him to keep safe while she took care of Zelena.

Regina smiles, nods, and then tilts her chin towards her heart as he still holds it gingerly, "Thank you for getting it back."

"I promised you I would," he says simply, making her smile, and it's silly, because it's impossible to feel the tenderness of his touch on an organ that is separated from her body, but somehow she thinks that she does, that she can sense the gentle way he's cradling it in his hand as he looks at her, eyes shining in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

"Would you like to come in?" she asks him then, "I should change before we pick up Roland and head to Granny's."

"I was actually thinking we might stop by your office after we're done here?"

"What? Why?"

"Well, I've set up a bit of a picnic for us there, you see," he informs, the tiniest hint of a smug grin tipping up the right side of his mouth.

"How did you even get into my office?" she asks with an amused expression.

"Henry," Robin explains with a chuckle as he stands up. "Quite the talented thief, your son, took your keys right from under your nose without you even noticing."

"Something he'll be grounded for later," she bites back, but she's bluffing and they both know it, because she _feels_  that light in her eyes again, the one only Henry can bring out, and she knows Robin can see it, too. She's only had him back -truly back- for a day, discipline is not high on her list of priorities right now.

"So, care to accompany me to our early supper after you change, milady?" Robin asks her again, and she nods, agrees, then ducks her head when she feels warmth flood her cheeks, but he catches her blush anyway, the smug smirk on his face is proof enough.

Regina then heads inside and walks up the stairs to her room, heading straight to the bathroom to freshen up and get rid of her clothes, all covered in dust and hay after the showdown at the barn. Robin waits dutifully by her bed for her to emerge, then lets his eyes roam her body hungrily, shamelessly, as she steps out in a black-and-gray dress, sheer black stockings and heels finishing off the ensemble, her hair down and tumbling about her shoulders. Gone are the red lips she'd sported earlier that day, replaced with a peachy nude splash of color that she'd felt in the mood to try out, now that the armor around her soul has started to crack and the mask of harsh eyeliner and bold lips no longer feels like a necessity. Robin seems to approve of the change, licks his lips as he stares at her mouth and then walks to her, her heart still in his hand as he offers it to her, asking silently what is to be done with it.

"I, um… I should put it back in before we go," she tells him, reaching out to take it, but her hand is trembling, scared as she is with how overwhelming her emotions -the guilt, the darkness- will be once it's back in her chest.

Robin notices her hesitation, lets his free hand move up to cradle her cheek, his eyes finding hers when he pleads, "Teach me."

"Teach you what?" she asks, confused.

"How to put it back in."

"You're not serious..." she begins, but there's a look of determination on his face as he answers.

"I am. Let me do this for you, Regina."

"But… you hate magic."

"Not anymore, not since I met you," he tells her with a small, sincere smile, his thumb rubbing circles over the apple of her cheek where his hand still holds her face.

"But-" she tries again, and this time it's his lips that shut up the million warning bells going off in her head, the shrill sound of alarms telling her that this won't work, that she doesn't deserve him, they're all gone as she surrenders to the wonder that is his mouth on hers.

"Teach me," he breathes again when they part, and it's impossible for her not to melt under his gaze, nodding as she stares at her heart, nestled between them, their warm breath coating it as they take a moment to calm themselves.

They sit in her bed, and there is not a single sound around them, it's as if the house itself knows the significance of the moment and has chosen to give them as serene a reprieve as possible for what's about to happen.

Regina places her hand over his and brings it closer to her chest, taking a deep breath before she instructs.

"You have to find the right spot first. Just hover it over and it'll glow brighter when it senses it's close," she tells him quietly, and Robin does just that, though she can see how nervous he is as he moves her heart over the middle of her chest, gasping when the red light within the organ shines just a little more than before. He stays there, moving infinitesimally to the left, guiding himself with the intensity of the glow, until the red spot is vibrant enough to overpower the darkened edges.

"Here?" he whispers, and Regina nods once, mouth dropping open as she stares down at what he's doing, fingers twitching over his as she prepares herself.

"Now, without losing the spot, all you have to do is push it in."

"Will it hurt?" he asks, eyes meeting hers with nothing but concern, care, and maybe even… no, she's seeing things, she must, it's only been a few weeks.

But then why does it send a thrill through her to see that unnamed emotion shining as brightly in him as she knows it does in her?

"Regina?" he questions, because she has yet to answer him.

"I… Yes, it will hurt, but there's really no way around that, and it'll only be for a moment. I'll be fine," she comforts, smiles at him because it seems that's all she can do when he's around, smile like an idiot at the way he just… cares.

"Are you certain the pain won't last long?"

"This isn't the first time I've done this. I'm sure. It's okay," she reassures, smiling still.

Robin takes a deep breath, huffs it out and then slowly, so very slowly, he starts to push the heart into her with the help of her guiding hand. Regina screams and almost doubles over when it enters her body, sharp arrows of pain shooting through her with every inch that sinks in her. Her breathing is fast, shallow, and Robin notices, uses his free hand to rub soothing circles over her back as his forehead touches her temple and he continues pushing in her resilient, battered organ.

It's over seconds later, and tears spring to her eyes as every emotion suppressed by the distance between her heart and her body for the last few days is heightened, multiplied tenfold, and everything hurts that much deeper (the guilt, the anger, the never-ending despair caused by Daniel's death, by Cora's manipulations, by Leopold's abuse), but her moments with Robin, her reunion with Henry, her victory over Zelena, all of that is also there, elevating her to a state of euphoria she never thought would be attainable to her. She's… happy. For the first time in a long, long time, she's happy.

"Are you alright?" Robin asks, ever concerned for her well-being, and she nods, a watery grin making itself a permanent fixture on her face as she stares and stares at him.

"I'm just fine," she tells him, closing her eyes when his hand darts up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, lingering there, playing with her hair as he looks at her.

"I can see it," he tells her in amazement, "the change, I mean. It's… something about your eyes. They're… warmer?"

Regina nods, surprised that he can notice something so utterly imperceptible, but then, he notices everything about her, she's come to realize, because he lo- cares for her enough to do so.

Robin then bends his head, his ear pressing against her chest, and he sighs deeply, listening to her heartbeat for long seconds, sighing in relief before he pulls back to look at her.

"I'm so proud of you," he tells her then, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing her knuckles as she frowns.

"Because I did light magic?" she asks, her own paranoid self already trying to sabotage the moment by screaming in her head that this is it, that when she tells him it must have been a fluke, that it's not something she thinks she's capable of on the regular, he'll walk away.

"No, it's not because of the light magic, although I must say that was very impressive," he says with a grin. "I'm proud of you because you chose your own path. I'm proud of you because you __believed__ , Regina, you believed in __yourself__ , and you saved us all."

She beams at him, worries forgotten and more tears falling because she's still getting used to having the full weight of her emotions back, but then he's staring at her bottom lip, teeth digging into his own, and his arms find her, one around her waist, the other over her shoulders, while both of hers loop around his middle and she gives in to the delirious touches of his mouth on hers, the slow, wet passes of his tongue against her own, the absolutely delicious feeling of his scruff rubbing against her skin when he drops his head to pepper kiss after kiss on her neck and back up.

"You were right," he tells her, smirking against her mouth when she whimpers as his hand on her waist drops just a bit lower and pushes her flush against him when it grasps her rear.

"About what?" she asks, only slightly embarrassed at the husky quality of her voice as she kisses him again, her lips sucking at his tongue for a moment, her teeth sinking into his lower lip right after, making him groan into her mouth.

"You're an even better kisser now that you've got your heart back," he admits, swooping in and kissing her once more, the exchange growing in heat and intensity by the second, and it takes everything in her to stop, but she does, pulls back and smirks at him as she licks her lips.

"As much as I would like to continue this, you did say you wanted to stop by my office before we go get Roland at the camp, and then we have the Charming party to get to," she tells him, though her voice is still raspy, needy.

Robin groans, forehead falling to her shoulder as his fingers squeeze at her waist, tightening and releasing in time with her breaths, his lips dropping wet kisses over what skin he can reach over the collar of her dress.

"Changed my mind," he mumbles there, "let's stay here all night."

She is so tempted, so willing to just sink into the bed and not leave the manor for the rest of the evening, but she has an incredibly romantic gesture from him waiting for her at the town hall, and Roland wants ice cream before the party, and Snow had insisted on how much she wanted Regina to be there for the celebration of the new prince's birth, and- __oh__  but to stay here, in his arms while he's kissing her neck just like this and nipping at her skin just like that.

"No," she hears herself say when she finally finds it in her to stop his advances once again, laughing at the disgruntled expression she sees on Robin's face when he pulls back to look at her. "I want my picnic," she tells him, "and I have a good bottle of wine in my office that we can share."

He sighs, but nods, tells her that sounds just right, and that they really do need to pick up Roland later, so it's just as well that they leave now.

They do so hand in hand, her burgundy scarf looped over the black leather jacket she shrugs on by the door, and they grin like fools at each other as they walk down Mifflin Street together, his grip strong around her fingers over their gloves.

And when they've reached her office, toasted with an exquisite red while the fireplace bathes them in its warmth as they sit on the floor against her couch, surrounded in an array of cheeses and fruit and wildflowers, and Robin asks her how she feels, Regina finds she has never meant something more than the words she utters softly in reply.

"Stronger than ever."


	64. Pool Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's summer in Storybrooke and Regina finds she quite likes the look of Robin in a bathing suit.

She's seen Robin naked.

Multiple times, actually. Has licked every inch of his sun-kissed skin and kissed her way up and down his toned body until she's memorized every dip and curve of it, every ticklish spot, every freckle.

And yet here Regina stands, completely dumbfounded and almost drooling at the sight of him in a bathing suit.

It's nothing special, a moss green pair of shorts that end just above his knee, tied at his waist by the ends of a white cord protruding from two tiny, faded gold-rimmed holes at the front, but she can feel her arousal spike up as she watches him come out of the pool, water dripping over the hard planes of his torso as he walks toward her, his gaze hotter than the late summer sun that shines cheerfully above them.

"You're staring," he teases.

"It's not a bad view," she flirts back with a smirk, and then he's sinking his teeth into his lower lip as he, too, roams his eyes over her figure. She looks good, she knows that, the black bikini she's sporting is one of her favorites precisely because it showcases her best attributes.

"I don't know why it's so sexy to see you in this," he says as he fiddles with one of the tiny bows that tie her bikini bottoms over her hips. "I've seen you in less."

Ah, so she's not alone in this, it seems.

"I was thinking the same thing," she offers seductively, moving ever closer and staring at his lips as she continues, "and I think I've figured it out."

"Oh, have you?" he says, his voice husky and wanton as he dips his head to pepper soft, wet kisses up and down the column of her throat.

"Mhmm," Regina continues, her chaste pecks along his neck growing bolder, noisier. "It's because we're out in public."

"Ah yes, that must be it," Robin agrees, pulling back and nipping at her chin when it's within reach, lips meeting hers for a slow exchange, and then his tongue is in her mouth, playing and sampling as his hands run up and down the bare skin of her sides.

"Do you realize," he says between kisses that stray from her mouth and to her jaw, "that it's been over a week since we last spent some, ah, proper time with each other?"

"Is that so?" she asks, her voice raspy and low as she tilts her head to the side, moaning softly at the way his hands continue to caress her skin while he drops more kisses, making a wet line down her neck and to her shoulder.

"Hmm," he confirms against her throat, "I feel we should make up for lost time right now, don't you?"

"That depends," she concedes, "what have you got planned?"

"Oh, nothing much, just a romantic rendezvous at home while the children aren't there," he murmurs against her shoulder, teeth catching on the strap of the bikini top and pulling a bit to tease her, releasing it with a soft snap against her flesh, "maybe some wine," he continues, skimming his nose up her neck, "absconding ourselves to our bedroom," he sucks at her pulse point and __oh__ , that __bastard__ , he knows she can't keep quiet when he does that.

"And then?" she asks, the question a breathy, weak thing spilling past her lips as she moves her hands to tighten by his waist, her fingers fisting in the elastic band of his swim trunks.

"Then," he answers, drawing out the word as he pecks his way from one shoulder, over her chest and to the other, the tip of his tongue peeking out and pressing against her skin with every pass of his lips, making her gasp and melt into his attentions, because _gods_  he's good at this, "I'll strip you naked, leave you all bare and beautiful in that big comfy bed of ours," more and more kisses, deeper, wetter, better, "and lick and suck at you until you're coming on my tongue."

She's wet now, so very wet and panting against his cheek, hands loosening their grip on his shorts to fly up and into his hair, nails scraping at his scalp, a low moan echoing out of her before she can stop it, and the sound has him pressing closer, has his kisses growing faster, more desperate…

"Oh _man_ , not again!" a teenager's voice breaks through their haze, startling them apart, reminding them that they are outside, in broad daylight, with kids (including their own) jumping in and out of the pool as they celebrate little Philip's birthday.

"Henry!" Regina exclaims, hastening to stand in front of Robin, who only laughs as he sinks his brow to her shoulder blade, pressing closer to her, which has Regina scowling.

"You guys need to stop doing that when we're around, it's gross," her son berates them, and Robin chuckles his apology as Henry walks away in a huff, joining Emma by the other side of the pool, and the blonde looks just as embarrassed by their PDA as their son, their expressions so uncannily alike that it makes Regina giggle, and then Robin's arms are wrapping around her waist from where he stands behind her.

"Rain check?" he asks against her neck, popping a kiss there.

"Tomorrow," she promises. "Definitely."


	65. Gratitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Outlaw Queen with past Dragon Queen, Robin thanking Mal for being there for Regina when she was so hurt and had no one else.

They're in bed one night when she wakes up screaming, sweating and scared and frantically trying to get away from his arms until she realizes it's him and not the king. He begs her to help him understand, pleads for her to open up and trust him with the weight of her emotional trauma. _I love you,_ he tells her, _please let me help._

Something in his eyes must convince her, because she finally tells him the story, cries as she relays the tale of her life with the king, of what that wretched man had done to her night after night in the castle after her mother had forced her to marry him, and Robin's blood boils as Regina's voice trembles around the descriptions of her former husband's actions. He hugs her closer, kisses her brow, her hair, her lips, and promises that she'll never have to experience such awful things again.

"I wish I could've been there, I would've helped."

"You're here now," she tells him as he wipes away her tears.

"I am, and I'm not leaving ever again," he vows, meaning every word.

"It wasn't all bad, though," she says later, when her mood has settled somewhat and the moon is high enough in the sky that its light filters through the curtained window of her room, and Robin perks up at her words, shakes away the waves of sleep that had begun to settle over him. "I had Mal."

"Maleficent? The one that breathes fire and sulks and glares at me every time she comes over for breakfast?"

"She wasn't always a scary dragon bitch, you know?" she tells him with faint amusement, her voice still raspy from her crying, "she was kind to me, taught me magic, gave me a place to hide when I needed it. She kept me safe as much as she could."

His fingers are now trailing up and down her arm, his nose bumping softly against hers, lips landing a kiss there before he pulls back to look at her again.

"I knew she was your friend, and that you care for her even now, but you never told me how that came to be."

"We, um… we were more than friends, for a long time," she confesses, and he tenses up instantly.

"Regina, if she manipulated you into-"

"No, Robin, it wasn't like that at all, she… she cared for me, she was gentle and loving, showed me there was more to intimacy than what Le- what __he__  wanted from me. I wouldn't have survived my marriage without her."

"And still you brought her over to this world trapped in dragon form and locked her up in a cave, she must have done something to you."

"No, she just tried to protect me. She always did. When I took the curse from her, she told me my revenge wasn't worth all the sacrifices I was making. She warned me that I'd have a hole in my heart if I cast that curse, a void I'd never be able to fill. I see now that she was right, but back then… well, I was stubborn."

"You still are," he says with an affectionate smile, one that she returns with an adorable scrunch of her nose.

"I'm glad you had someone, my love," he tells her after a few seconds of silent appraisal, his fingers moving from her arm to play in her hair, "it's a comfort to know you weren't completely desolate, even if you had your differences later on."

"She just wanted to help me, but I was finally free of my husband and I was… high on power, I could finally seek my revenge against Snow. Mal saw that darkness was consuming me, and she'd made that journey, too, she knew where it would get me, so she tried to steer me away from that path, but I didn't listen, and still she was there whenever I needed her."

"She's been a good friend."

"Yes. Yes, she has." 

* * *

 

The next evening, Robin makes a detour on his way to Regina's house, stops at Granny's and heads up to the room Maleficent's staying in. Her daughter is there, but makes herself scarce when Robin asks the dragon sorceress for a moment alone.

"Come to take something else from me, thief?" she asks haughtily, blonde curls tumbling slightly as she tips her chin up defiantly.

"Something tells me you're not referring to my pillaging your castle all those years ago," he answers gently, and Maleficent doesn't reply, merely turns her back on him and moves towards the small fireplace on the other side of the space, one hand on the mantle as she stares at the flames that keep the room warm, waiting for him to say what he came here to say.

"I wanted to thank you, Maleficent," he says then, his voice low but firm, and it has her turning to him with an incredulous look on her face.

"Thank me?" she questions doubtfully.

"Regina told me of your relationship, of how much you helped her when she was trapped with that man." He doesn't need to specify, he sees the angry flare of recognition in her eyes, a flash of the hatred she still seems to harbor for the king because of what he did to Regina, and Robin finds himself admiring the woman in front of him that much more.

"Did she, now?" she replies, alluding to absolutely nothing, pursing her red lips as she looks him up and down.

"She has nightmares," he confesses, feeling like perhaps it's a betrayal of Regina's trust to reveal such a thing, but Maleficent isn't surprised.

"I remember those," she tells him, a hint of sadness in her tone as she moves closer.

"Right, well, she still has them, and after last night's she… she told me of what you did for her, how you were kind and gentle and a true companion for her when she had no one."

"I loved her," the dragon admits in a quiet tone, "I still do, though it's different now. I suppose, in a way, I always will."

"And I'm forever grateful to you for that," Robin tells her, not a hint of jealousy or ire in his tone, despite the spiteful look the woman throws him as he says it, "that you were there to soothe her when I wasn't. That you helped her, tried to save her even when she wouldn't let you."

Maleficent doesn't reply, just watches him with interest, but the harsh edge of her stare is gone now, her eyes growing a bit kinder as she regards him. Awkwardness settles in now that he's said his peace, so he decides to leave, making for the door and only pausing when she calls after him, using his name, much to his surprise.

"I'm never going to stop caring for Regina, I'll always be there to protect her in whatever way I can. But... I'm glad she has you now," she murmurs. "She did a lot for me, too. She deserves to be happy."

"That, she does. And thank you."

* * *

 From then on, when Regina invites Maleficent over for breakfast, the dragon and Robin exchange small, knowing smiles over their morning coffee, and there is no jealousy there, no anger between them, only a sense of calm that washes over them both, a reassurance that Regina is loved. In different ways, by different people, she's loved, and that's all that matters.


	66. Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storybrooke. Dimples Queen + Domestic OQ

She's covered in chocolate. Sticky and sugary and, to her surprise, completely unbothered.

Roland had insisted on pouring the syrup on their ice cream, but in his enthusiasm he'd shaken the bottle a little too vigorously before he even aimed at the bowls, showering Regina in the chocolaty sweetness, effectively ruining the crisp white blouse she'd decided to wear today.

The poor boy is crying, apologizing and telling her he didn't mean it, and _please don't get mad, Regina,_ he begs in-between hurried reassurances of _I'll clean it! I'm sorry._

"Oh sweetheart, you don't have to do that," she says gently as she kneels down on her kitchen floor, trying to appease him. But Roland is still crying, hasn't really heard her words because his own sobs are louder.

"Roland, it's alright," she tries again. "It's okay. Hey, look at me," she tells him when she hooks a finger under his chin, "I'm not mad."

"You sure?" he asks, apprehensive, but his crying is dying down, the quivering of his pouty lower lip stopping almost completely.

"I'm sure. It was an accident," she tells him with a smile, "trust me, it's fine. In fact…"

She trails off as she rises and grabs the bottle of syrup from the counter, dolloping a small amount of it directly on her finger and then running that finger down the slope of his adorable nose, tapping the tip of it for good measure and grinning triumphantly at him. He giggles a little at that, and then his eyes grow mischievous, and she knows what he's going to do before he even moves, but she lets him jump up and hug her, lets him plant a giant, wet kiss on her chocolate-coated cheek and sink her backwards to the floor, until her back hits the cool tiles and Roland is laughing above her, straddling her and grabbing the bottle of syrup, dumping a good quantity of it on her and screaming _I win! I win!_ at the top of his lungs.

"Oh, I don't think so, mister," she fires back before she grabs the bottle from him and sits up, so that he slides down to her lap as she squeezes the last of the chocolate all over his beautiful brown curls.

That is how Robin finds them when he gets home, a mess of chocolate and giggles on the kitchen floor, and he shakes his head in affectionate exasperation, asking them what on earth they got up to for the two hours he was out with Little John.

"We were just… in the mood for chocolate," Regina defends, hardly able to contain her amusement, and Roland hiccups and guffaws and then dissolves into a laughing fit, and Regina leaves him there for a moment, her sticky hand held in Robin's gentle grip as he helps her up.

They get lost in each other's eyes for a moment, as they always do, and then Robin breaks the contact by raking his gaze over her, chuckling at her current state. Regina can't blame him for it, she's sure she must make quite the sight, her once-pristine outfit, carefully styled hair and flawlessly applied make-up all in chocolaty shambles now thanks to her and Roland's playful antics.

"I know, I know, I'm a mess," she tells him with a roll of her eyes and nothing but affection in her tone. And she __does__  look a mess, she knows she does, but he shakes his head at her and wraps his arms around her waist, unfazed by the brown smudges left on his jacket by the chocolate disaster that is her shirt as he pulls her closer.

"You're stunning," is all he says before he swoops in for a kiss.


	67. Private Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in Camelot. Regina skips out on a royal ball.

He finds her away from the crowd, isolated in the large, lavish bedroom they've claimed as theirs for the duration of their stay in Camelot. She's a vision in red even as she sits on the bed, hugging her knees and looking forlornly out the window carved into the stone wall. Moonlight trickles in from it, bathing her form in its silvery gleam, and the tiny gems that adorn the neckline of her dress become shiny specks in the pale glow, like she's adorned in an intricate pattern of stars rather than crystals.

"I was looking for the fairest of them all at the ball," he says quietly, drowning out the sounds from downstairs as he closes the door behind him and makes his way to her, "imagine my chagrin when I was told she wouldn't be attending."

She doesn't look at him, but his words get her to smile -a small, meager thing, but a smile nonetheless-, and he takes it as permission to join her, bringing one knee up and sitting in front of her on the bed, his other leg dangling, booted foot brushing the floor. His hand moves tentatively, resting over hers on her knees as he waits for her to turn her gaze to him.

"What is it, my love?" he asks when her watery eyes find him.

He sees the determination in her, the way she's trying to force herself to remain strong, to not show him the state of her emotions, and it sends a pang of guilt to his soul that she feels like she has to protect herself from him now, a consequence of the heartache he caused her. But they're in this together, and he tries to tell her that, squeezes her hand and then moves to cradle her cheek, thumb gently moving back and forth over it as he waits patiently for her answer.

"I shouldn't be doing this," she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Doing what?"

"Having fun? Enjoying this, us? I don't deserve any of it, not while Emma's still out there battling with the darkness that was supposed to take _me._ "

"Regina," Robin sighs, using the hand that still holds her face to tilt it up to look at him when she tries to avoid his eyes, "do you remember what Emma said to you right before she used the dagger to save you?"

"That doesn't matter," she starts, but Robin speaks before she can continue.

"Of course it matters, she told you you'd worked too hard to get your happy ending, and she wasn't going to let you lose that. She did what she did so you could be happy."

"Well, I can't be happy, not like this, not while she's… lost."

"I know that," he insists, "and we're all going to help you bring her back, I swear it, but this quest cannot be at the expense of your own feelings, Regina. Depriving yourself of the good moments won't help."

She nods, exhales, then counters, "I still don't want to go to that ball."

"I understand," he says with a low chuckle, his heart leaping in his chest when she leans further into his touch, resting her head fully on his hand and closing her eyes to enjoy the contact.

It takes great effort to part from her, even for a moment, but he rises from the bed then, extends a hand to her and waits for her to take it. When she does, he guides her slowly to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, stands behind her as they both stare at her reflection, and he lands a kiss on her shoulder blade before he looks down at his outfit, rummaging through his pockets until he finds what he's looking for.

"I was going to give it you when you arrived downstairs," he begins, "but this is better."

When he opens his hand, the delicate gold chain dangles from it, links clinking together as it falls until it's suspended in the air from where it's hooked on his finger, the ruby at its center glinting in the candlelight that illuminates the room.

"Robin," she gasps, "it's beautiful. But why…?"

"Just thought it was about time I started spoiling you with jewelry. You're a queen, after all," he quips, smirking at her reflection in the mirror. She smiles back, moving her hair to the side so that he can fasten the necklace, his hands settling on her shoulders as they both stare at the jewel.

"It looks lovely on you," he tells her, moving his arms to wrap around her middle and hold her tight, breathing her in when he buries his nose in her soft hair. She smells like apples and cinnamon, all sweetness and warmth and spice, she smells like home, and Robin sighs with the relief of having her there, revels in the feeling of her body pressed flush against his.

They stay that way for what feels like hours, just basking in each other's presence, reaffirming their love for one another, his arms hugging her, her hands settled on top of his on her stomach, eyes closed and breaths deep, until the faint sound of a slow tune drifts towards them from downstairs, and Robin gets an idea.

Gently, he extricates himself from her, only to walk towards the heavy red drapes that hide the balcony on the other side of the room and open them with a flourish. The moon shines brightly tonight, and it illuminates the room in an instant, drowning out the yellowy glow from the candles. Robin then makes his way back to Regina, bows, and stretches out his hand.

"May I have this dance, milady?" he asks, and there's that smile, the one she reserves only for him, the smile he'd done nothing but dream about every single day he was away from her. The smile that says she loves him as much as he loves her.

"I suppose you may," she replies, curtsying with a laugh before she takes his offered hand.

He walks them to the balcony, then holds her close, one hand lacing fingers with hers while the other finds home on her waist as they glide around the stone floor, the barely-audible music from downstairs guiding their steps. She's radiant, smiling and looking into his eyes with affection, and he believes she may finally be allowing herself a respite, a moment of simply enjoying the fact that she's loved. They will save Emma, he knows that, knows Regina will stop at nothing to get her friend and Henry's second mother back, but right now, in this moment, she's letting herself relax in his arms, letting herself be happy.

They're still swaying when the music slows to a stop, and the silence does nothing to halt their dancing, lost in each other as he kisses her smile.


	68. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in 5A. Regina goes after Hook for freeing Zelena from prison, Robin stops her from doing something she'll regret.

"Are you daft?!" the pirate spits at her when she makes the mailbox near him explode as he walks by it.

"You've got a lot of nerve saying that to me," she barks back, decided steps reaching him in seconds, her hand setting itself in that all-too-familiar gesture that makes the darkness in her flare with the satisfaction of taking a life, and the tighter she tenses her muscles, the tighter Hook's throat becomes, his hand clawing at his neck in a futile effort to stop her from choking him.

"St… stop!" he gasps out, but his pleas will get him nowhere. She's the queen, and he's put her loved ones at risk, he has to pay.

"Regina!" Robin's voice breaks through the somber haze clouding her (for a moment, she'd forgotten he was even there), but her hand doesn't move, doesn't relax, its stance still firm, and the stupid pirate writhes in his attempts to draw breath where he stands not three feet away from her.

"Please, you don't have to do this," Robin begs her, blue eyes shining with concern, and he's right, maybe she doesn't have to, but she __wants__  to, she wants Hook to pay for roping her son into a dangerous path, for putting Robin's life in jeopardy, for being nothing but a reckless _idiot_ throughout all this.

Next thing she knows, Robin is standing there, between her and the pirate, and she drops her hand instantly, scared she's hurt her soulmate in her attempt to get revenge.

"Get to Granny's," he snaps at a coughing and sputtering Hook, " _now_."

The man does not need telling twice, heavy leather jacket swishing as he runs off, leaving the two of them alone in the middle of Main Street, everything around them deserted now, since the others have already made their way to the diner, to await the cyclone that will take them to Camelot. Robin approaches her then, and there's something about the way he touches her, something in the hesitant trembling of his fingers when they reach her -like he's worried she'll lash out because he stopped her-, that makes Regina crumble.

"I'm sorry," she rasps, melting into him when his arms immediately go around her. Her hands instantly grip his jacket, holding him close, and she breathes him in, the woodsy, fresh scent of him helping her calm down the storm raging inside her.

"It's alright," he whispers against the crown of her head, his lips dropping a kiss there before he pulls back to look at her.

"I just… I _specifically_  told him not to go anywhere near Zelena! She could've killed you, Robin, and all because that stupid pirate decided to take matters into his own hands."

"He just wants to save Emma," he tries to excuse, but Regina won't have it.

"So do I! That doesn't mean I'm going to free my deranged sister from her prison hoping that she'll help me! He put my son in danger with his ridiculous plan, and almost got _you_  killed," her voice trembles at that, the mere idea of it shaking her to the core, making tears spill, unannounced and unbidden, falling down her cheeks as she looks at him, her eyes flitting from his and to his lips, his hair, his chest, right over where his heart beats strongly under her hand. "I could've lost you."

"But you didn't," he whispers gently, "and Henry's fine. It's alright, my love."

There's comfort in his words, in his touch, in the way he kisses her head yet again as he rocks them back and forth in their embrace, violent gusts of wind alerting them to how close the cyclone is now. They should really be heading to Granny's, but he doesn't move, only holds her tighter, running a hand over her back, eliciting a moment of calm in the midst of the chaotic phenomenon that is about to sweep them off to another land.

"I was so scared," she finally confesses, head buried against his chest.

"I know," he replies, his voice soft, loving, "but you saved me, and you got the portal to work. We're all going to find Emma, and we'll fix this."

"Together," she says, pulling back to look into his eyes for confirmation, and Robin nods, smiles at her, and then leans forward, his lips meeting hers, lingering in their kiss, one of his hands cupping her cheek, thumb rubbing along it when they separate, foreheads coming together for mutual reassurance as the wind howls louder.

"Promise me you won't go after Killian?" he asks her.

"You know, I doubt anyone would miss him… except maybe the person he buys all that eyeliner from," she retorts, and Robin's eyes sparkle with amusement at the remark, shaking his head slightly.

"Emma might," he says then. "Please, Regina."

She sighs at that, murmurs back an annoyed _Fine, I promise_ , and settles against his side, his arm going around her waist as they walk briskly to the diner where their sons and the Charmings are waiting, the cyclone coming closer and closer, until finally it sweeps them up in its destructive path, and they fly through the realms, a family on a mission.


	69. Stunning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About that red dress in Camelot

It's red.

She's said it's black, but no, he doesn't agree… red is definitely her color.

The Charmings and King Arthur are right next to him, and they're discussing… _something._  Some information on Merlin, maybe, some random _thing_ Robin can't find it in himself to listen to right now, because Regina is descending the stone steps from their room and onto the grand hall where they're all gathered, and she's wearing a dress that fits her so well it's as if she'd been poured into it.

And he cannot take his eyes off her.

Crimson velvet hugs her every curve, skirt swaying gracefully every which way as she moves. She's a walking poem, an ode to the mystical goddesses of yore as she all but glides down those steps, the silver beading on her neckline glinting, her skin luminous, bathed in the faint golden glow of the candlelight. There's a slight blush on her cheeks, lips painted in that same stunning shade of red to match her gown, her hair swept to one side and curled at the ends, looking as soft and inviting as ever, and his hands itch to run through it, to feel the silkiness of it between his fingers.

He's constantly surprised by how mesmerizing she is, how he can do nothing but gravitate towards her like a moth to a flame whenever she's near, and he wants nothing more than to pull her closer, to cover her in kisses and take in the cinnamon scent of her, to whisper against her skin over and over again how much he loves her, how beautiful she is in every single way, but he's too enraptured by her beauty, his mind too befuddled to even try and form a coherent thought as he devours the sight of her.

What does him in is what happens next, when her eyes find his and she smiles, coy but mischievous at the same time, knowing exactly what she's doing to him, accentuating her effect on him by slowing her gait and sashaying her hips the tiniest bit, simply because she can.

Robin is aware of the nervous laughter coming from their companions in the background, can hear the teasing comments uttered by David when he finally moves, but he pays them no mind, because his hands are now on her, roaming over smooth fabric, running fingers through dark, silken tresses, his lips pressing against the cherry red on hers, his body shivering when she lets out a little surprised moan at his impromptu kiss.

Because she is breathtaking, and he will take all the teasing in the world, so long as he gets to hold her in his arms for the rest of his days.


	70. Irresistible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ode to the blue zipper dress from 5x06. Rated R.

He doesn't undress her, doesn't dare disturb the mouthwatering picture of her body clad in tight blue fabric as she sashays out of the bathroom on bare feet. Her silhouette is delectably encased in the stretchy material, the decorative zipper adorning curves in her that he's all but mapped with his tongue a good many times before, but it's only when she turns around to grab the leather jacket by her dresser, when he catches sight of the splendid shape of her arse in that dress, that he loses it.

"What are you doing?" she asks, but she sounds amused rather than annoyed by the way he's suddenly grabbed her from behind, her clothed back bumping into his bare chest. He doesn't respond just yet, buries his face in her neck instead and kisses what skin he can reach from his current position, one hand leaving her waist to brush her hair to the other side so he can access more of her, and she moans her satisfaction, leans back against him and turns her head just so, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on his jaw. He doesn't undress her, but is unable to stop the thrust of his hips, when he feels her press her arse against his cock over his pajama pants.

"This dress is a crime, milady," he murmurs into her neck, teeth sinking into her flesh and tongue licking at the spot to soothe, and he doesn't undress her, but stares at the way the garment hugs her body when she turns and smiles devilishly, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. _Oh, yes_. This is going to be good.

"What, this old thing?" she asks, her voice coated in nothing but innocence, and he doesn't undress her, merely stands there and ogles her as she pulls her shoulders back, pushing her breasts up and giving him a little show as she turns slowly, his eyes glued to her form when she stops mid-twirl to throw a naughty look at him over her shoulder.

This is going to be very, _very_  good.

He doesn't undress her, but it doesn't stop him from touching her, his hand going straight to her thigh, hiking the dress up slightly when his finger follows the slit that marks a tantalizing path up her thigh, and then hooks right under it, bringing the fabric with it, high enough that he can feel the heat building between her legs at his actions.

"Robin, I have to go," she says, but her mouth is on him as she speaks, teeth nipping at his chin, tongue licking at his jaw, her eyes dark and lustful when he presses her against the bedroom door just behind her and hooks his hand on her thigh, bringing her leg up to wrap around him and rolling his hips teasingly. He doesn't undress her, but oh, how he delights in the satisfied little moan she gives him when the delicious friction traps her between his naked torso and the door.

"You can't possibly expect me to let you walk out of here without ravaging you first," he tells her, his voice low and raspy, and he doesn't undress her, but grinds his hips just a little harder, making her whimper into his mouth when he kisses her fiercely.

"Robin," she sighs his name when they part, mumbling something about not having time to take her clothes off and jump back in bed with him, the others are waiting.

"Who said anything about taking your clothes off?" he asks deviously, pulling back from dotting wet kisses down her throat to look at her. Regina raises an eyebrow in response, her mouth pulling up in a smirk.

"Adventurous, are we?"

The dress is still on her, clinging like a second skin, and he doesn't undress her, but grasps her arse with both hands, slams her against him, making her feel how hard he is already, and then her hand is on the soft cotton of his pants, pushing the material down his legs, fingers wrapping around his erection when it's finally free of its confines and pumping slowly, firmly.

"Fuck!" Robin hisses, and he doesn't undress her, but his hand is now under her skirt, giving as good as he's getting, one finger finding her underwear and pulling it to the side as he bites her lower lip, reveling in the way her body shakes and trembles when he thrusts that finger into her slowly.

Regina slams her back harder against the door with one particularly deep plunge of his hand, gasping when he kneels before her and stops his attentions for the few seconds it takes him to ruck that torture device of a dress up to her waist. He'd thought he might have to unzip her, but the slit on her thigh and the elastic quality of the fabric allow for enough flexibility that he can hike the skirt up without issue, his tongue resuming the teasing of her clit that his finger had been doing only moments before while his hand pushes her left thigh away from her right to keep her spread open for him.

He doesn't undress her, but rather smiles against her when she writhes, her breathing shallow and hurried as she begs him for more, surrendering completely to this raw physical need that's overtaken them both. _Let them wait,_ she whimpers when he asks her if she still wants to leave, and he doesn't undress her, but __gods,__  she is a vision anyway, sighing his name and rolling her hips against his tongue as he licks and licks, lips closing around the sensitive bud and sucking hard at her, groaning lustfully as the scent of her arousal intensifies along with her cries of ecstasy.

Three of his fingers are now inside her, setting a fast pace that he matches with quick, wet flicks of his tongue against her clit. Still, he doesn't undress her, but watches her as the coil of pleasure finally springs free and she comes on his fingers and tongue, exploding in a stream of breathy little not-quite-screams that have him hardening further, and then she's making him stand, hands pulling at his shoulders until they're face to face, breaths mingling for a brief second before she crashes their lips together, tasting herself on him, moaning hotly into his mouth.

He wants her legs around him, wants those thighs gripping at his sides as he rams into her, and it seems Regina's had the same idea, because suddenly she's forcing the crumpled hem of the dress higher up her waist, until her legs can open enough for her to clasp them around him and find her position, her back flush against the door, sweat beading at her temples as she tries to hold the pose long enough for him to situate himself, and he doesn't undress her, but kneads her breasts with the hand that had kept hold of her thigh just minutes before, while his other had been pounding in and out of her. He doesn't undress her, but finds her nipples over the fabric and gives them a light squeeze, smirking at her sharp intake of breath and her whispered _Oh, god!_

His cock is inside her not five minutes into his ministrations, both his hands moving to grasp her ass and keep her flush against him as he thrusts up into her, her arms looped around his shoulders, nails digging into his back, her chin bouncing against him as they move, and the _sounds_ coming out of her, the constant rasps of _Yes!_  and _Robin!_ and _Don't stop!_  are delicious little rewards that spur him on as he tells her in a gruff voice how good she feels, how tight and wet and beautiful she is, and she digs her nails deeper into his skin when she starts meeting his thrusts with harsh grinds of her own, the door rattling behind her as she screams when his cock hits that sweet spot inside her just so.

"Right there, right th… oh my- _yes!_ "

He doesn't undress her, but he _fucks_ her, hard and fast and deep, his hands firmly clasping her ass, her legs wrapped around him as he slams her hard against the door with every thrust, over and over while his cock pushes its way in and out of her, her shouts of pleasure a melody in his ears, her skin a welcome nectar for his parched lips as he sucks and tastes and devours her, the way she moans his name only intensifying the rhythm of his hips.

He doesn't undress her, but the clothes are no obstacle for her hand as it leaves its position around him and wedges itself between them, toying with her clit as he feels her walls tighten around him, and then she's coming again, her shouting drowned by his tongue when he plunges it into her mouth, spilling himself into her when she sucks at it with those luscious lips of hers.

The way down from their high is slow, their bodies relaxing into one another, Regina's legs falling slack from their grip around him, standing jelly-like and spent against the door while Robin kisses her again, lazily this time, exploring and conveying nothing but affection as he hugs her around the waist, and he didn't undress her, but it was still amazing, still mind blowing, and she's sweaty and breathless from their quick romp against the bedroom door, her eyes droopy as she smiles at him.

"I might have to wear this more often," she tells him, and he chuckles in response, dotting a kiss to the tip of her nose and humming his agreement.

"You're late," he informs her when her cell phone goes off from somewhere on her nightstand, no doubt her fellow heroes calling to find out where she is, and Regina laughs, kisses his lips and tells him that this is all his fault, and now she has to head to her meeting with the Charmings and deal with their remarks on her tardiness, while he stays home and lounges in blissful afterglow all day. Her voice is dangerous as she tells him she ought to punish him for this, and there's a naughty glint in her eye that makes him shiver pleasantly as he tightens his hold on her.

Robin didn't undress her, but he looks and looks at her now, takes in the sight of her disheveled hair and flushed skin, of the tight blue dress that she's now smoothed back into place, and he smiles as he returns her smug statement with one of his own.

"It was worth it."


	71. Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regina introduces Robin and Roland to vaccines.

He hates hospitals. Has hated them from the second he stepped into the ER last month for his sprained ankle, and if there is one thing Regina Mills does not want to do today, it's bringing Roland here when she knows how much he loathes the sterile air and bright white lights. Henry had despised hospitals too when he was a toddler, and she supposes it's the logical thing for a child, to dislike a place that is overflowing with illness and strangers in surgical masks, and she feels for Roland, doesn't want to have to do this, but it's not like she can put it off any longer.

Before arriving in this world, Roland had lived in the forest, and it seems the constant exposure to nature from such an early age helped him build a good immune system, but he and Robin are hers now, her _family_ , and she wants them to have every protection available. This time it's not about magic, however, but about evils against which the technology and science in this world have created extremely efficient immunizations.

They're here to get shots.

Roland is queasy with nerves, eyes almost bugging out of his face when he realizes that the needle the nurse has been setting up is going into his arm.

"Regina, no," he tells her, those beautiful brown eyes now swimming in unshed tears as he squirms and tries to get away. Robin is there, too, looks uncomfortable at the sight of the syringe, but insists it'll be alright.

"It's just a light prick, son, nothing to worry about, you won't even feel it."

"I promise it'll be over before you know it," the elderly nurse says with a warm smile, and Regina holds onto his hand just a little tighter, hoping it gives him courage as she tells him it'll all be over soon, and then they can go home and have ice cream like she promised.

"No! It's gonna hurt! Don't let her do it, Papa, don't!" he almost shouts, and it breaks her heart to see how fearful he is, but they have to do it, he needs to have his shot so he can be safe.

She kneels down in front of him, taking the green lollipop the nurse has just offered her, and kisses his wet cheeks as she shows him the treat, the nurse nodding in understanding. They've done this before, the two women, when a younger Henry had behaved in a similar way.

"Okay, let's wait for a bit, shall we?" Regina tells Roland, taking off the clear wrapper from the candy and offering it to him, watching him as he calms down, takes a lick from the lollipop and answers her reassuring smile with a tiny one of his own.

"Roland, do you trust me?" she asks, and he nods vigorously.

"Do you think I would ever want to hurt you?"

An energetic shake of his head answers that question, and she feels Robin's hand settle on her shoulders from where he stands above her.

"You always take care of me," the boy whispers, clinging to his lollipop.

"Exactly, and I always want to protect you. This is just that, a way to protect you so you don't get sick."

"But what if it hurts?"

"It might, just a little, but you're my brave knight, are you not? You can handle it."

"I don't know."

"I do. I know you can do it. Henry did it, and so did I."

"Really?!" he gasps, and Regina lets go of him to roll up the sleeve of her shirt enough to show him the tiny mark left behind by a needle all those years ago, when she'd first arrived to this land and found herself awed by its medical marvels.

"See? Just a small pinprick and then you're done. Can you do that for me?"

Roland nods, his gaze set on the mark in her arm, and then he takes a deep breath, looks to the nurse and extends his arm to her, immediately turning to bury his face in Regina's shoulder, eyes squeezed shut from nerves and anxiety.

The needle goes in after a dab of rubbing alcohol to his skin, and Roland presses his head more firmly against Regina when the nurse injects the liquid into his system, but then it's over, another small dose of rubbing alcohol being dabbed against the almost imperceptible wound, and it's done.

"There, you're all set," the nurse says with a smile, and Roland separates himself from Regina to look at his arm.

"That's it? I did it?" he asks in wonder.

"You did, sweetheart, as I knew you would," Regina answers, grinning when he cheers and hugs her, his lollipop getting stuck in her hair, making a sticky knot form in it, but she doesn't care, returns that hug with as much love as she can muster, and only lets go when Roland asks if they can go have ice cream now.

"Not yet, your papa still needs his shot."

"Oh, we can come for mine at another time, let's go have ice cream," Robin says, his eyes on the new needle that's being taken out of its sterile packaging. Regina smirks.

"Roland, why don't you go outside and wait for Henry? He should be here soon," she tells him as she magically clears away the syrupy mess from her hair, and the boy goes happily, leaving her with Robin in the small room, the nurse watching expectantly.

"Should I get another lollipop, your majesty?" she asks as she turns and sets up the room divider to give them some privacy while she waits, and Regina can't help but laugh when Robin scowls at the woman's barb.

"Robin, are you scared?" she says, unable to keep the mocking tint from her tone when she looks at him.

"You're asking to let someone stab me!" he exclaims incredulously.

"You told Roland it was fine!" Regina counters with a laugh.

"Well, it's not," he tells her, sulking all the while. She draws herself closer, the tip of her nose traveling the length of his jaw, lips dropping a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"It'll be okay," she tells him, casting a soundproofing spell around them with a wave of her hand when she adds a low, "if it hurts too much, I can kiss it better when we get home, maybe give you a backrub to help you relax?"

Robin swallows visibly, looks down at her sternly when he recovers. "That is not fair."

"Come on," she cajoles, her hand gliding over his stomach, mouth leaving open kisses in a line down his throat, "the sooner we're done here, the sooner we can go home and I can take care of you."

It sounds more like a dirty promise than a loving one, she's well aware of that, has purposefully made her voice a bit breathy, seductive, the hand on his stomach shifting just a little lower, to that spot just under his belly button that makes his muscles contract with sensation, and Robin almost growls in response, aroused by her antics.

"Fine," he grouses, stretching out his arm when Regina takes away the soundproofing spell, so that the nurse on the other side of the divider can hear him, "let's get this over with."

They leave the hospital ten minutes later, Henry giving Roland a piggy-back ride while Robin rubs his arm and frowns at Regina.

"That hurt," he tells her with what she can only assume is an irritated, petulant pout.

But when they're finally alone (after ice cream has been consumed, children promptly put to bed), and she sashays out of the bathroom in nothing but a few scraps of black lace, when she kisses the spot on his arm that is just a little swollen, trails her tongue down his chest and back up to explore his mouth, her body straddling his on their bed, Regina smiles to herself, knowing she's won this round.


	72. Bedtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing Year. Dimples Queen + OQ

He watches her from where he hides behind the bookshelf, entranced by the way her raspy voice wraps around the words as she reads to his son.

Ever since she'd saved him from that flying monkey, Roland had become smitten with the queen, doing everything he could to spend more time with her, even when she hadn't seemed to want his company at first, too saddened by the absence of her own child and burdened with memories of him. But slowly, Roland had wormed his way into her heart, as Robin knew he would. No one could resist his little merry man's big brown eyes and adorable dimples.

Bedtime was a tradition now, and she would come into his room in the castle and read to him from whichever book they'd picked out in the library earlier that day, her magic weaving small specters of light to illustrate whatever tale she was reading at the moment, creating tiny purple dragons or bright blue butterflies that fluttered around them while she relayed the story to his boy, and Roland couldn't be more pleased, smiling and giggling until he'd fall asleep with his head on her shoulder, and she would thread her fingers through his hair, whisper "good night," and tuck him in, leaving the room quietly, only to come back the next night, and the next, and the one after that.

He continues to watch as she waves her hands slightly and creates a bright green crocodile that slithers its way around Roland's neck, the magic tickling him before the creature disappears with a pop. Robin isn't sure what exactly it is that draws him to her, but he's long given up trying to fight it. She's an attractive, strong, confident woman with a body that he's sure has brought more than one grown man to his knees, and deep dark eyes that scare and thrill at the same time, and those lips… Robin shakes his head, trying to clear his mind before a very uncomfortable problem presents itself in his trousers. He wants her, that much he knows, but there's something else about her, something tender and loving that she doesn't show often, only when she's with his son, only when she thinks no one else can see her, and it's that part of her he wants to explore the most.

"Regina?" he hears Roland ask when there's a lull in the story as she turns the page.

"Yes, dear?"

"What's your son's name?" the boy asks, and in his innocence he can't know how much the mention of her lost child pains her, but Robin sees it, and the need to comfort her is overwhelming.

"Henry, his name is Henry," she tells him, her voice trembling, and it seems to Robin this might be the first time she's said his name out loud since she parted from him, and he knows she must be hurting.

Roland apparently notices it as well, because he pouts at her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you cry," he tells her, raising his tiny hand to wipe away the tears that Robin is too far away to see falling down her face.

"It's okay, Roland, I'm okay."

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Very much," she admits in one shuddering breath, and Roland then wraps his little arms around her and hugs her tightly, and it makes tears spring to Robin's eyes when he sees her shoulders shake, and suddenly she's sobbing into his little boy's shoulder while he mutters reassurances in her ear.

"It's okay, you'll find him again," he tells her.

"You think so, huh?" she asks, and Roland nods vehemently, his chin bumping against her shoulder, his hand running up and down her back to soothe her.

"Yep," he says with a smile, pulling away and then burrowing into the mattress and patting the spot next to him, coaxing her into lying down with him. She obliges, bopping his nose playfully with her finger, breathing a heartfelt _thank you_ to him.

After long minutes of listening, watching her tell Roland of the many things she and her Henry used to do, Robin leaves the room quietly, knowing she'll be getting ready to leave at any minute, as Roland was already nodding off. To his surprise, however, he finds her asleep next to his son when he returns to the room a few minutes later.

He'd thought her stunning when he met her, then found her breathtakingly gorgeous when he'd first seen her in the heavy velvet robe she wore over her nightgown, her face free of makeup and her hair falling around her face in loose waves, but he realizes now that she's even more beautiful in sleep, with her brow no longer furrowed in constant worry and frustration, her lashes casting wispy shadows on the tops of her cheeks, mouth relaxed and no longer fixed into the scowl she's come to favor when addressing him and his men.

He doesn't know what possesses him to do it, but suddenly he's grabbing Roland's blanket and covering them both with it, planting a kiss on his boy's head and smoothing back the curls that have fallen over his face. And then, without even realizing it, he finds himself placing a kiss on Regina's brow. The reaction is instant, electric, a shock wave that seizes him the second his lips touch her skin, and all he wants is to feel it again and again, but knowing how vulnerable she is, how she would not take kindly to his actions, he stops himself from seeking the contact again and quietly slips out of the room.

After that night, he spends every waking moment trying to get her to open up to him, and one year and a curse later, when she finally plants a searing kiss on his lips, neither of them can remember their late night walks through the castle grounds, or the way he'd push a stray lock of hair behind her ear, or how he'd hold her and wipe away her tears when she cried over how much she missed her son.

No, they don't remember any of that, but their bodies remember the pull, the crackling energy that is only ever present when they're touching each other, and that's more than enough for now.


	73. Let It Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hood Mills family Christmas

 She finds him in his room, huddled over his desk and covered in bits of white paper.

"Henry, what are you doing?" she asks, frowning, and her son looks up at her and grins guiltily.

"Nothing."

"Right," she says with a raise of her eyebrow, and Henry simply laughs, turns to face her and uncovers the mess he's been hoarding at the table.

Snowflakes. Dozens and dozens of paper snowflakes, crowding the space in all shapes and sizes, with a few that he accidentally cut just a little too much, all crumpled in the corner in a large pile of paper bits.

"Explain?" Regina waits, amused when her son sighs and finally fesses up.

"Do you remember that Christmas we had when I was six or seven, where there was that freakish tropical front thing that made it so that it didn't snow that year?"

Of course she remembers, Henry had been so sad about the lack of snow, had pouted and shuffled his feet around the house, looking longingly out the window just hoping that at least one flake would fall, but to no avail. Regina had hated seeing her son so miserable, and had spent five nights cutting up paper snowflakes after she put her son to bed, until she had an amount so large it was enough to cover every single surface of the living room. On Christmas Eve, after Henry had fallen asleep to his favorite Christmas movie with a belly full of his favorite foods, she'd crept out of his room and started what her son now affectionately calls Operation Snowglobe.

She'd gotten a small rotating fan, hid it in a corner, and then hung strings of paper snowflakes from the ceiling, dumping the hundreds of little pieces that fell off the paper when she'd cut through it on a coffee table near the fan and watching as the air swirled with them, coating their Christmas tree, falling on tables and vases and then flying again when the wind hit them once more as the device rotated. Twinkle lights had lined the walls, adding a magical air to it all, white tulle and cotton balls decorating the space as well, store-bought fake snow frosting the floor and the mantle on the fireplace as the finishing touch. Regina had turned their living room into a beautiful Winter Wonderland, and while clean-up took two days and left her with lower back pain for a week, the smile on Henry's face when he'd set eyes on his very own North Pole was totally worth it.

"That was a good one," Regina says with a fond smile. She can see it as clearly as if it had happened just yesterday, the way he'd rubbed at his eyes when she picked him up from his bed and moved to the living room, his footie pajamas soft and warm against her, how he'd fallen right back to sleep in her arms and woken up a half hour later, enveloped in snow that his mother had created just for him. "But what does that have to do with this?" she asks, still curious.

"Roland wants snow for Christmas."

"Ah," she replies simply, understanding.

"Yeah, he's really bummed that we're not getting snow this year."

"Who's to say we won't? There's still time, we may yet have a white Christmas, like always."

"I don't know, mom, that cyclone that took us to Camelot really messed with the weather, and it's not as cold as it usually is this time of year. The lake should've frozen over by now," he says, dejected. "Anyway, I just wanted to try and make snow happen for Roland, so..." he shrugs, gesturing to the piles upon piles of paper snowflakes on his desk, and Regina's heart swells with the love she has for this wonderful boy who changed her life, who sees Roland as his little brother now, and wants him to have as charmed a childhood as possible, despite (or perhaps because of) all the evils in this town.

"I'll help you," she offers, pulling up the other chair and waving her hand so that a new stack of white squares of paper in different sizes appears on the desk.

They spend the afternoon cutting and cutting, laughing as they remember past celebrations, discussing ideas for new traditions they want to start now that their family has grown so much, and even indulging in a few gingerbread cookies as they work. When dinner time approaches, Regina helps her son hide all the cut-outs in a large cardboard box and stashes the box in her study, where she knows Roland won't enter, and then together, mother and son set about preparing a lasagna for the whole family to enjoy. When Roland and Robin walk in carrying groceries, she greets her true love with a kiss and a smile, bops the tip of Roland's nose with her finger, and says nothing.

Robin catches her looking through a spellbook one night, nuzzles her hair when he stands behind her and asks curiously if she's looking for anything in particular. She can't bring herself to lie to him, but refuses to give away the surprise.

"I am," she admits with a smirk, "but I'm not going to tell you what it is."

 

* * *

 

It turns out Henry was right, and there's no snow to announce the arrival of Christmas morning, but it doesn't matter, because inside the mansion, the boys have already gleefully opened their presents, and their entire living room is a full sized winter wonderland, just like it was all those years ago, only this time it's not just Regina and Henry, it's also Roland and Robin and the tiny, bundled up baby girl in his arms, who squirms when paper flurries land on her nose, but grins up at her father nonetheless.

Roland's mouth opens up in an O of astonishment when he enters the room, his eyes wide as he looks around and takes in the hundreds and hundreds of paper snowflakes lining the ceiling and hanging from lamps, stuck to the walls and decorating the coffee table, the twinkle lights and cotton and tulle on the mantle, the tiny bits of fake snow flying all around them thanks to the two fans placed discretely in the corners of the room. It's marvelous, and he screams his joy, immediately hugs his little arms around Henry's legs to thank him, then does the same to Regina, who smiles down at him, this boy that's become as much her own as Henry.

"It's not ready yet," she informs him, waving her hand and disappearing the furniture from the room, then repeating the ancient incantation she'd finally found in one of her books and watching as the fake snow becomes the real thing, paper turning into icy little flurries that swirl and twirl and sparkle in the soft glow of the twinkling lights, landing on her robe and Roland's pajamas, melting instantly into the fabric.

"There," she says, "now it's done."

"Mom?" Henry asks as he turns to look at her, awed at what she's just done.

"Merry Christmas, my little prince," she tells him, returning the eager hug he gives her before pushing him onward to the marvelous little world she's created for them, the once-paper snowflakes on the walls and ceiling now turned to real ice and floating magically above them, catching the light and casting glimmering specks in the shape of tiny stars and triangles against the wall.

The mounds of paper bits on the floor have turned into a fluffy coat of snow, and Roland and Henry are now changed into their outdoor winter clothes and happily sprawled on the fresh powder, moving their arms and legs to create angels, beaming with delight, and Regina has never heard anything as beautiful as this, the combined sounds of laughter from her children as they play together.

She's made it snow in her living room… for real this time… and in doing so has granted her sons the white Christmas they'd been hoping for. It's not often she feels proud of herself, but today, today she is, because she's fulfilled her one wish for this Christmas, she's made her family happy.

Robin is beside her then, hoisting the sleeping baby on one arm as he wraps the other around her waist, lips finding her temple and dropping a gentle kiss there.

"This is wonderful," he tells her, his voice quiet and private, almost drowned by the joyful shouts of their boys.

"It is, isn't it?" she agrees, turning to look at him and smiling when she finds his eyes locked on her mouth, his tongue moistening his own lips in anticipation of the kiss he knows is coming. She closes in, grants him the unspoken request, keeping the exchange chaste and light in the presence of the children, but she remains in his hold after they part, leans into his touch and rests her side fully against his as they both watch their sons enjoy their Christmas surprise.

They stay in their little snow park for the rest of the day, the spell holding up quite nicely as they make snowmen, and sometime in the afternoon, all three boys decide to have a snowball fight in the confines of the living room, pausing the game after a half hour to drink the hot chocolate Regina's prepared for them in the kitchen, and the baby coos away in her carrier, happily sucking on her little fist and drooling all over it.

The boys are pretty spent by the time they have to shower and get dressed for dinner (a delicious meal of turkey and stuffing, with mashed potatoes, cranberries, green bean casserole and corn for sides, and gingerbread and crinkle cookies for dessert), and so when the time comes to go to bed after wolfing down their food, they do so without a fuss, bidding their parents goodnight and thanking Regina again for their amazing day in the snow. The baby is in her crib, sleeping peacefully with her purple pacifier in her mouth, and Robin and Regina are left with a few quiet minutes to themselves before they call it a night.

They're in the empty space where her couch usually sits, snow falling and tumbling around them, the gleam from the few lights that are still on bathing them in a golden luminescence that brightens up the muted shade of red of her dress, makes the blue in Robin's eyes sparkle as they look back at her. His hand finds hers, brings it to his chest and holds it there as his other arm snakes around her waist, drawing her close enough to rest his cheek against hers and rocking their bodies from one side to the other. It's slow, gentle, a tender moment of love between soulmates, made all the more special when he hums a slow tune in her ear, the sound smoothly drifting into words as he begins to sing.

 _"Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light..."_ he croons, surprising her. She'd known he'd been listening to a lot of holiday music lately, wanting to adapt to the festivities of this world, but she wasn't expecting him to learn the lyrics to any of the songs, let alone her favorite Christmas carol, and the surprise has a watery smile forming on her face as he continues.

_"From now on, our troubles will be out of sight..."_

More flurries fly around them as he sings on. The twinkling lights keep shining, adding to the ethereal quality of their surroundings, enveloping them in the magical snowy cocoon that is her living room, and the familiar lyrics provide a sense of fulfillment and peace that Regina never truly expected to have.

_"Here we are as in olden days, happy golden days of yore..."_

Robin keeps going, the soft baritone of his voice soothing her as she rests her head on the crook of his neck and they continue moving in a slow circle, her hand still held in his against his chest, and she basks in the comforting pine scent of him, in the way their bodies seem to be made to just fit one another like pieces of a puzzle, revels in the love in his touch when he runs his hand up and down her back, lands a kiss on her hair during a break in the song, and Regina cannot remember ever feeling happier than she does in this moment, with her children resting easily and happily in their beds and her true love holding her close, showering her with an affection she never felt deserving of until he walked into her life.

It's as he's ending the carol that she finally lifts her head to look at him, and he merely continues to sing, the words trickling from him, his voice rich and sweet like honey as he holds the longer notes.

_"So hang a shining star upon the highest bough..."_

Their dancing has carried them around the room, and now they're standing right under a sprig of mistletoe, she notices, and Robin smiles at her in that adoring way he always does, that way that makes Regina feel cherished and tingly and wonderful, because he loves her, and this beautiful life they're building together is more than they'd ever hoped for.

She leans in, and the last of the lyrics are murmured right against her lips, a quiet, loving kiss following the end of the song, wrapping up the holiday in that one perfect moment.

_And have yourself a merry little Christmas now..._


	74. Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outlaw Bandit (the Author's AU).  
> Have some Bandit Regina birthday feels.

He has no idea what could dim the light of such an exquisite creature, what's happened that has her staring at her tankard of ale like it's offended her with the biggest of slights, but he wishes he knew, wishes he could help lessen the burden somehow, so that she could go back to being that sassy, free-spirited bandit he's absolutely smitten with.

It's not his place to comfort her, and Regina has made it quite clear she doesn't want him anywhere near her, but there's this pull she has on him, this... __thing__  that Robin doesn't know how to describe, that makes him want to protect her, to make her smile and laugh, even if it is at his expense.

"If you're gonna stare at me all night, you could at least buy me a drink," she drawls from her spot on the bar, just a couple of worn wooden stools down from his.

"Fair enough," he responds as he moves to sit next to her, unfazed to be caught looking, and raises two fingers to the barkeep to ask for more ale, laying a copper on the counter and smiling when the old woman takes it and goes to fetch their drinks. Regina scoffs, her palm dragging down her face in annoyance and frustration.

"That wasn't an invitation," she mutters, like the very idea of speaking to him pains her.

"You just told me to get you a drink," he protests.

"Yes, because I wanted the drink! Your company, on the other hand..." she rolls her eyes, trying to shoo him away with a wave of her hand, but Robin merely stares, grins.

"How do you do it?" he whispers the question, in complete awe of her.

"Do what?"

"Look so lovely even when you're acting like a petulant child," he asks, and it would sound arrogant even to his own ears, like a line many an idiotic man has tried to use on an attractive woman, if it weren't for the fact that his tone is sincere, his eyes lost in the worried planes of her face.

"Stop that," she admonishes, "stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you... find me attractive or something," Regina chides, "it's weird."

"Why does it bother you that someone would think you're beautiful?" he questions, and he means nothing bad by it, he's genuinely curious, but for some reason his words strike a chord with her, have her rounding on him with anger etched on her features.

"Leave me alone, Robin!" she snaps, and he nods, defeated.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, I'll leave," he apologizes immediately, and there's a flicker of sadness in her eyes, her stance softening when their drinks are finally placed before them. He grabs his tankard, raises it to her and returns to his seat, away from her ire.

He sips his ale slowly, but watches her chug down hers all in one go, slamming the cup back on the counter and sliding it back to the barkeep, who shakes her head in exasperation and walks away when Regina orders another.

Little by little, the tavern empties, until there's only a few stragglers left in the corner tables. He's almost finished with his drink when she speaks, her voice broken, a little slurred after the three more cups of ale she drank while he was still polishing off his first.

"It's my birthday tomorrow," she confesses, like it's a crime that she was born.

"Happy birthday," Robin congratulates, and her reply is a humorless chuckle that breaks his heart.

"I used to love hearing that," she tells him, "not so much now."

He stands and walks towards her again, waits by the bar stool for her permission, only sitting down after she shrugs and shifts, so that her body is angled toward his as she continues her tale, staring at her hand as it lazily swirls a finger around the rim of her cup.

"My mother tossed me out when I was a baby," is the phrase she opens with, making him shiver with the bite in her tone. "I was passed around from home to home until I ran off on my own when I was ten. I lived on the streets for a while, hungry and weak. Two old wenches at a whorehouse nearby found me and took me in. They were kind, and generous, and would always make sure I had a special birthday."

She smiles sadly at that, sounding nostalgic for simpler times, and then her hand starts to shake around her cup, and Robin tentatively moves his fingers closer, until his pinkie is stroking back and forth across her knuckles. She doesn't acknowledge the gesture, but doesn't shy away from it either, so he continues, offering what little physical reassurance he can to help her get whatever is hurting her off her chest.

"When I turned twelve, they introduced me to their patron, a man called Leopold, who was old enough to be my father. The women that were taking care of me told me that he was the one who provided for the three of us, that he was the reason my birthdays were so great, and I was so thankful, I went out of my way to make him feel welcome. Got him tea, cooked him dinner, made sure he sat on the comfy chair by the fireplace. He was very polite, very joyful, and visited us quite often after that. When I turned seventeen, he threw me a big party at his estate, showered me with presents, made it so that I had the best time of my life that day."

Robin suspects she's getting closer to the horrific part of the story, to the reason she now sees her birthday as a curse rather than a celebration, because she's outright trembling as she closes her eyes, and relives what he can only assume are the painful memories of whatever followed that birthday bash. He has the nagging suspicion he already knows what that is.

He increases his comforting touches, has his entire hand running up and down her own now, his body shifting closer, free hand tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he tries to put her at ease, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Regina."

She ignores his words, just keeps talking.

"I was stupid enough to think life wouldn't kick me in the teeth again, that I was safe now... and then Leopold took me to his chambers that night.

"He said he had something to show me, a special present, he called it. He made sure I was tipsy on wine and after a while he walked me to his room, handed me this beautiful red velvet robe, trimmed in gold and made exclusively for me. Fit for a queen, he said, and then told me to wear it with nothing else underneath. I was a little baffled, but I'd spent years with this man being the father figure I never had, so I didn't really see his intentions for what they were."

"Regina..." Robin tries to console her, but it's like she's far away, lost in the haunting tale she's relaying to him.

"You asked me why I take issue with someone finding me beautiful, this is why. When he saw me wearing the robe... Leopold, he... he touched me, kissed me, said I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. That's all he kept saying while he... I wanted to stop him, but I'd grown up in a whorehouse, I knew what would happen to me if I fought back."

"I'm so sorry," he tells her, tone dripping with concern and sincerity.

"He's dead now. My caretakers poisoned him when they found out what he'd done, but I still left, packed up my things and ran away. I couldn't handle living there anymore, dreading that some new patron would come in and notice me..."

She trails off for a moment, swallows and then turns to him.

"Thirteen years since that day and I've never told a soul," she admits, looking nervous.

"So why me?"

It takes her a while to respond, her eyes on him as she tries to figure out the words.

"Because you care? Because you're the only person who's ever talked to me like I matter? I don't really know, I just... I feel safe with you," she finally says with a combination of a sob and a chuckle, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Good. And of course you matter," he tells her vehemently, his hand cradling her cheek. "Especially to me. I mean it. I would never hurt you."

"I know," Regina says with a small smile that doesn't really reach her eyes. "You might be a pain in the ass, what with hijacking all my targets and taking my prizes," she teases, "but you're not a bad person. I trust you, Robin."

He breathes easier after that, lets go of her cheek, resting his hand back on the bar, and a heavy pause follows, interrupted after a few minutes by the shallow breaths coming from her as she says, "I should've fought back."

She deflates after that, self loathing clear and resonant in the way she withdraws from him and claws at her arm in order to ease the discomfort she feels now.

"Regina, not fighting back doesn't mean you consented to the act itself. This isn't your fault."

"There are so many things I should have done differently, I could've-"

He stops her by drawing her into his arms, propriety all but forgotten as he holds her. She stiffens at first, tries to fight it, but he gently reminds her, "I got you," and she relaxes in his embrace, one hand grasping at the linen of his shirt and holding on tightly as she takes deep breath after deep breath.

They've been each other's competition for so long now, mockingly flirting and trash-talking each other as they race to see who can reach their target first, that Robin can't remember a time without Regina in his life, showing up out of the blue and hijacking his stolen bounty, taking his treasures with a cheeky smile on her face, but it's only now, as he runs his hand up and down her back and whispers soothing words in her ear, that he realizes not only has she stolen the valuable trinkets he's procured during his heists, she's also stolen his heart, the truth of that notion made all the more obvious by the revelation that right now, all he wants is to make her smile again, will gladly lay down his life to make that happen.

He decides right then and there to give her a birthday she'll love, one marked by so many happy moments, the sad ones will fade into the background.

"Come with me," he whispers when they part, smiling at the way she wipes aggressively at her cheeks to keep him from seeing the tear stains there, bravado back in full force.

"Where are we going?"

"We are going to celebrate your birthday."

"Robin..." she starts, apprehensive.

"Regina, I can't change what happened to you, I can't undo what that bastard did, but I can at least help with this. I want to give you a wonderful birthday, with enough good memories to overshadow the bad ones you've been carrying for so long."

"Sounds like an impossible feat," she argues.

"Would you at least let me try?"

She takes a deep breath, seems to mull it over for a few seconds, and then finally, she nods, breathing a soft _Okay_  that has him soaring.

They leave the tavern together, and Robin takes her to the lake he'd found hidden in the forest during one of his hikes a few days ago. It's a beautiful night, moonlight illuminating their steps as they reach the water.

She's hesitant at first, but he reminds her she agreed to this, winks in her direction when she begrudgingly follows suit. They take off their boots, wade in together, and when she asks what's so great about making her walk into a lake in the middle of the night, Robin slaps his hand against the water, sending large droplets her way. Regina seems put off at first, annoyed, but then retaliates by plunging a hand into the water and moving it, adding enough speed to create a small wave that breaks against him, soaking the fabric of his pants despite him having rolled them up to his knees before entering.

He doesn't mind, though, because in seconds she's smiling, eyes bright and happy, and for the next half hour they just do this, run and jump around on the shallow banks, splashing each other, childlike laughter bubbling out of them both as they play.

They're soaked to their knees when they make their way back to the bushes by the shore, and Robin builds a fire for them to dry off, sitting next to Regina when the flames roar to life.

"Now what?" she asks.

"Now, we sleep under the stars, and tomorrow I'll cook you breakfast and we'll start the festivities."

She laughs, shakes her head at him, but grabs their heavy cloaks from the tree trunk where they'd left them when they arrived, laying one down on the floor for them to sleep atop it, and throwing the heavier one over them both as they lie down and settle, cozying up to the fire as the sounds of the night lull them to sleep, and Robin cannot remember a sight as beautiful as the bandit beside him, asleep and unburdened. She really does feel safe with him, and that is by far the most rewarding of all his accomplishments.

She drifts into his arms in the night, seeking comfort or body heat, he's not sure, but he welcomes her nonetheless, winds his arms around her and snuggles closer, taking in the sweet scent of her hair ( _ _apples__ , he realizes, __it smells like apples__ ) before he closes his eyes once again.

He heads back to town early in the morning for some supplies, has bread, eggs, fresh forest berries and cool water ready for her when she wakes up.

"You really didn't have to do all this," she tells him, munching on a berry.

"I wanted to," he reiterates, picking a piece of bread off the plate they're sharing, and her smile is shy, but genuine, stray strands of hair flying about her face when the wind blows just a little harder.

They take a break from their respective thieving lives for the day. He's left John in charge of the Merry Men, has nothing to worry about, and they take their time, just exploring the woods. She has no idea where they're going, and he keeps it that way, refusing to give her even a clue as to their destination.

"It's a surprise," Robin insists, securing the large leather rucksack slung over his shoulder and taking off at a sprint behind a cluster of trees, laughing when she follows with a roll of her eyes.

When he reaches a familiar area, he stops, breathless, waits for Regina to catch up. The trees are thinner here, younger, moist earth and moss licking at the trunks. The air feels clearer, fresh and invigorating thanks to the woodsy smell of the pines that surround him, mid-morning sunlight streaming in through the thicket of canopies that stretch up and reach towards the sky. It's peaceful, quiet save for the whistling of the wind, his favorite spot in the vast expanse of Sherwood Forest, and he's quite excited that he gets to share it with Regina today.

"Close your eyes," he tells her sweetly, moving to block her line of vision when she finally reaches him, emerging from behind a berry bush.

"Is this really necessary?" she whines, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It most certainly is, milady, now close them," he insists, smiling when she does as he asks, huffing out a breath for good measure.

He moves to take both her hands in his as they begin to walk, but she stumbles, her foot caught in a curved root they miss in their steps. Robin acts fast, grabs hold of her waist and steadies her.

"I got you," he says, and he can tell she recognizes those words from last night, her grip on him tightening just slightly as he promises, "I won't let anything happen to you."

His hands set to their task again, hold hers gently as he guides her, making sure to stir her along the easier paths, until they emerge onto the meadow and he stands behind her, hands on her shoulders as he leans closer.

"Alright, you can open your eyes now," Robin murmurs against her ear, and revels in her reaction at the view before her.

Wildflowers mix with a mass of soft green grass that looks like waves, moving back and forth in the breeze and reflecting the light. The chirp of birds can be heard from far away, bright sunshine making the whole area glow with warmth, and Regina is smiling, much to his delight, astonished at the beauty of the space around them.

"This is gorgeous," she breathes, relaxing into him, her back pressed more fully against his chest.

"Mm," he agrees, "it's become my secret home of sorts, after I found it on one of my quests. You trusted me last night with something you've never trusted anyone before, I wanted to return the favor."

"You're telling me you've never brought anyone here?" she asks, curious.

"Never," Robin confirms, and she echoes his question from the night before.

"So why me?"

It's true that this is the one place he has where he can be alone, a source of comfort and beauty that he can enjoy with a privacy he doesn't have, living with his comrades in the camp as he does. This meadow is special, and his, he wasn't planning to bring her here, but the second the idea occurred to him, he hadn't hesitated, not one bit. If he's to share this spot with anyone, it'll be with Regina.

"No one else is worthy," he says simply.

They spend the day there, talking and laughing, lying down on the grass with their heads propped up on their hands, elbows digging into the earth, never breaking eye contact as they share details of their lives the other didn't know, comparing stories about nobles they've both robbed, exchanging anecdotes of their training. It turns out she used to have terrible aim with a bow and arrow no matter how much she tried to get better, was much more adept at fighting with a sword.

"And still you stuck with the bow. Why?"

"Well," she says, and her finger is picking at a tiny hole in his shirt as she smirks, "there was this other thief who was shooting arrows left and right, taking my treasure before I could, and I decided I wasn't going to let him win so easily, so I kept training until I got good enough to match him."

She winks at his incredulous laugh, and then her stomach rumbles, alerting them to the fact that noon has come and gone, the sun now bordering the horizon, and they haven't had food since breakfast.

"Sorry," Regina croaks, mortified, but Robin shakes his head, waves off her apology because she has nothing to be sorry for, and then grabs the rucksack from where he'd placed it on the earth beside her, pulls out a blanket and a block of cheese wrapped in waxed parchment, along with a tiny jar full of olives, and a small sack of cloth that contains honeyed rolls and biscuits.

"I took these from the kitchens of an inn in town," he informs her as he extends the blanket on the floor. "Eat up. I'm going to get us some water."

"No, wait," she calls out, stopping him from getting up, "The water can wait, let's just eat."

She's so very nonchalant about it, but her request has his heart skipping a beat. _She wants him to stay._

So he does, passes her a biscuit and uses his pocket knife to cut into the cheese, offering her a slice.

It's a simple food, but it's good, has them staring at each other with full bellies and satisfied smiles, and it's Regina who has to remind him that they still need the water.

"Right," Robin says, shaking the sleepy, post-meal trance off as he grabs the empty canteen from his bag, "I'll be back."

 

* * *

 

He returns a half hour or so later with water, pine nuts and more berries, finds her fiddling absentmindedly with a frayed end of the blanket, looking at the flowers and the trees, her breathing deep and lazy. She looks relaxed, content, beautiful, and try as he might, Robin cannot ignore that little voice in his head, the one that whispers of how he'd happily devote his life to making her feel like that.

He builds a fire at the edge of the meadow when the sun starts to hide under the mountain tops, takes out one of the honeyed rolls and tops it with the berries and nuts he picked on his way back from the stream, peering into the rucksack again to find the small candle he brought for the occasion.

His back is to her the entire time, asking her not to peek, and when he finally has everything ready, he turns on his knees, presenting the improvised birthday cake, candle lit and ready for her to make her wish.

"Happy birthday, Regina," he whispers, waiting for her as she stares at the tiny flame now melting the wax. He can tell she's moved by the gesture, her eyes wide and round and brimming with tears, but she's smiling, leaning forward to take the tiny plate from him, blowing off the candle and setting her "cake" aside, her body shifting closer, her expression difficult to decipher.

"What is it?" he asks, worried that she's back to murky thoughts.

To his utter shock, Regina raises her head and lands a sweet, feather-light kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you for today," she says, blushing, then turns her back to him and finds home in his arms as they wrap around her.

Robin cannot remember ever feeling so happy.


End file.
